When the Cat's Away
by Miss Pontmercy
Summary: Rating for violence in later chapters. Patron Minette is not ready to leave the Rue Plumet and kiss their fortunes goodbye. When a kidnap goes awry, it's bad enough- but Cosette's suffering is not over. These thieves do not give up.
1. Courfeyrac's First Impression

**So this is not entirely original. I have adapted it loosely from my old story "The Lark." I felt there was more I could have gotten into there, and I am a better writer now than I was when I wrote that story. Mind you this does not follow the same story arc, but you will find some similarities. **

**Anyway, enjoy this! It's been stewing for some time now.**

**AU, of course.**

* * *

><p>Marius and Courfeyrac were finishing up their humble dinners, Marius' stomach in knots.<p>

"Feuilly and I are going out," Courfeyrac informed his friend. "We're going to the theatre. Want to come? I heard the comedy we're seeing is so raucous that grown men faint. I'm deliciously excited."

Marius flashed a smile at his friend, but his nerves prevented him from actually laughing. "I would like to join you, but I have somewhere to be."

Courfeyrac rolled his eyes. "Of course. We mustn't keep her waiting, right there Marius?" He flashed a smile, winking.

Marius shrugged, not volunteering any information. He was actually not seeing Cosette that night- he was throwing caution and his last hope to the wind and going to see his grandfather.

"Anyway, if you can bear to drag yourself away before midnight, I'm sure our meeting at the Musain will run late. Come by and join us."

"You're meeting this late at night?" Marius asked. "After you go to the theatre?"

"We have quite a lot to finish up tonight," Courfeyrac said impatiently. "Has your head come down from the sky long enough to perceive that _General Lamarque is dead?_ My dear Marius, you are so thick sometimes-"

"I know he's dead!" Marius snapped.

"Well the funeral is tomorrow, and we all know there will be an uproar!" Courfeyrac's eyes gleamed, hungry for what was to come. "Oh, Marius, we've been waiting for ages but something will finally _change! _You'll be there, won't you?"

"Where?" Marius asked, distractedly rehearsing what he was to say to his grandfather.

"At the _funeral,_" Courfeyrac drove.

"Oh," Marius said, genuinely surprised. "Um... No, I don't think so."

Courfeyrac looked taken aback. "Marius," he said, his eyebrows very high. "I know our politics differ somewhat, but _this_ is huge! We even agree on this! You know it's ridiculous, what's they're doing to the man-"

"I know," Marius said. "But tomorrow just is not a good day for me."

"Mary, Mary, quite Contrary," Courfeyrac said under his breath.

"Don't call me that!" Marius snapped, hating the nickname his friend had made up for him years ago, who had often called him a bothered old woman named Mary. "I just have a lot on my mind."

It was true. Tonight, he would either emerge with permission to marry Cosette, or his hopes dashed completely. Whatever the case, his life would be in a completely different place as of tomorrow afternoon, and he did not have the patience to consider adding political unrest to his turmoil.

"So you're planning a revolt tonight?" Marius asked, changing the subject slightly.

"Yes," Courfeyrac said.

"Don't get caught," Marius said warningly.

"Oh, I was planning on leaving a note to the police about it," Courfeyrac said sarcastically, and then sent his friend a winning smile. "Come on! Give me a grin, Marius! What's there to frown so about? We're young! The world is about to change! We're hot blooded Frenchmen who have freedom in our hearts and beautiful women in our beds! Well, I have the last part, anyway... you never seem to be able to get any. Why not enjoy it? Come to the meeting tonight. Come to the theatre."

"I can't," Marius said, his face white, and looking like he swallowed something too large.

"Mary! _Monsieur l'abbé!"_

"Stop it!" Marius snapped, too nervous to be amused by his friend, whose spirits were flying higher than the clouds. He got up, and put his glass on the counter with the basin of water. Marius was halfway to the bedroom when a knock sounded at the door.

"Can you get that?" he called to Courfeyrac. "I'm about to go change my shirt."

"Yes," Courfeyrac said. "And make sure you shut that door tight! God forbid I see your scrawny chest-"

"Just answer the door, Courfeyrac," Marius said, rolling his eyes. Courfeyrac always made fun of the fact that Marius, after having spent hundreds of nights sleeping in the same room as Courfeyrac, still would not even change his shirt in front of him. At least not with the lights on.

Courfeyrac, still laughing, opened the door. His eyes landed on a very tearful young woman. Her face was red, and she was shaking.

Courfeyrac immediately thought she might be a thief or a prostitute, fleeing from the police and wanting a place to hide. But then he took in the sight of her clothing: clean, modest, well-made bourgeoisie clothing.

He could not even decide if she was pretty or not, given the fact that her face was scrunched up and her eyes wide with terror. She continued to cry.

When she looked at him, her gaze darkened with disappointment, and she looked utterly crestfallen. The urge to laugh actually overtook him- what a greeting! After just boasting about all the highs of life, he opens the door to a girl who bursts into tears.

"I'm sorry I'm not better looking," was all he had to offer.

She looked at him with such complete confusion and fear that he immediately regretted it. Obviously sarcasm was wholly lost on her. And anyway, he hadn't been completely correct- she did not burst into tears at the sight of him. Obviously she'd burst a few blocks back.

He looked at her very modest clothing, obviously a tightly laced corset, the thick cotton, the buttons, the laces, and the _burst_ image just made him laugh. This poor convent girl quite needed to burst out of herself!

Realizing he'd not properly greeted her, he cleared his head and continued.

"Bon soir, mademoiselle," he offered, giving her his most charming smile, and a very nonchalant lean against the doorframe. One of his mistresses told him once that men looked handsome when they rolled their sleeves up to their elbows, and he was pleased to see that he was wearing his shirt that way. Subtly, he reached his arm across the doorway and rested his hand against the other side, showing off the sinewy muscle of his forearm. "Do I know you?"

She dissolved into more tears. He had never seen anyone look more pitiful in his life.

Courfeyrac was not used to his charm being lost on the female lot. Though he still hadn't decided if she was pretty, he now decided she wasn't much worth the trouble- if she couldn't stop crying long enough to say 'hello,' she certainly would not be very much fun in the bedroom. Not to mention she did not laugh at his joke. It had been funny, hadn't it? She was just a boring drab not to have laughed.

Still, he decidedly did not like the fact that she didn't succumb to him, and he tried softening his demeanor. Maybe the change of tactic would appeal him more to her.

"May I help you, dear?"

"Who's at the door, Courfeyrac?" Marius asked.

Hearing his voice, the girl seemed to have some sense knocked into her. She dropped her gaze from Courfeyrac's face and, with a determined look on her face while still managing to continue looking completely miserable, she actually physically pushed past Courfeyrac into the apartment.

Courfeyrac turned, mouth slack in surprise, as she threw her arms around Marius' waist, sobbing hysterically against him. He looked desperately at his friend for an explanation, but received none. Marius' attention was completely diverted onto the girl.

"Cosette," Marius whispered, obviously demanding to know what had happened.

Whatever had happened, Courfeyrac cracked a huge smile.

Ha! He knew her name!

Trust Marius to find the only girl in Paris who didn't like him, Courfeyrac.

And the only girl in Paris without a sense of humor.

Humph. So there would be no fun times out to dinner with him, Marius, this 'Cosette' and one of his girls, would there?

Still, Courfeyrac felt triumphant. He found out something Marius had tried so desperately to keep from him for weeks- months even. He'd won!

A few moments later, though, and Courfeyrac's mood was deterred. Marius still had not paid him the slightest bit of mind, and from the girl's hysterics, it was clear that something was actually wrong. Courfeyrac watched his friend's face, and saw unadulterated fear there.

The smile died from Courfeyrac's face.

Something was very, very wrong.


	2. The Devil's Snake

Courfeyrac stood watching as the girl continued to sob. He saw her not-so-subtle glances his way, and he understood that she had something to say to Marius, but did not want to say it in front of him.

"Well, Marius, you know where to find me," he said as if their conversation had not been interrupted by some catastrophe. "After ten or so you know we'll be at the cafe. Goodbye. Er, lovely meeting you, Mademoiselle."

Neither paid him any mind. As soon as Courfeyrac had left, Cosette sighed with relief.

"Please tell me what happened," Marius pleaded, guiding Cosette to the old, battered couch he and Courfeyrac had pushed against the wall of their small main room. He wrapped his hands around her upper arms and gently shook her. "_Please._"

"You'll hate me," she said, her voice choked.

"I couldn't."

"You'll be very angry," she revised.

"Are you hurt? Did you do something?"

"I'm... no, well, _I _didn't do something. Someone else did."

"I will only be angry with them," Marius promised, hoping he could keep it. "But please tell me what happened."

* * *

><p>Cosette said goodbye to her father; he would be gone for the evening.<p>

"I'll be back in the late afternoon tomorrow," he promised, kissing her forehead.

She gave him an empty smile- he was off to secure goods for their journey toEngland. "Have a safe journey, father," she bid, meaning it.

She did not know where her father went, but every few months he left for a few days to keep their household running smoothly. She always assumed he was going to their bank, and it was probably where he was going now.

After her father left, Cosette kneeled beside the couch in the living room and prayed for awhile. It was rather dreary here in the rue de le Homme l'Arme. She had no piano, so could not practice her music. She had no garden to walk in, and the apartment was very small and stuffy.

Cosette sighed. She refused to dissolve to tears, but she felt utterly abandoned in this horrible, small, lifeless apartment completely decorated in brown. She would not see Marius that night- he was off seeing someone, and Cosette pouted. He had not told her where he was going. He was doing something to ensure they would not be separated, so she could not be too resentful. She prayed for him to succeed, and prayed for her father's safety and for him to have a miraculous change of heart on his journey.

Toussaint was out buying some food, so when the door to the apartment opened Cosette barely noticed. She had probably returned.

"Hello, Mademoiselle," a man's voice interrupted her prayers.

Cosette nearly jumped out of her skin. She looked up and saw a thin, good looking young man.

He gave her an engaging smile. When he spoke, his voice was soft and kind. Cosette's suspicions evaporated.

"I work nearby here, Mademoiselle, and the porter let me up. I was just here because, you see, my little sister has just vanished."

"That's terrible!" Cosette said, getting up. She noticed the young man's shiny, dark hair and his flash of white teeth when he smiled. Despite her misery from the moment before, she flushed. He was very handsome.

"The porter said a young woman lived here with her father. He said you two might have seen her, since you had only just come by this way from the outside."

"Oh- he isn't home now," Cosette said. "I don't remember any little girls nearby. My father may, but like I said, he's not home."

"He isn't?" the young man said, looking genuinely concerned, but pleasant. Cosette's heart fluttered, and she wanted to help him.

"No, I'm sorry," Cosette said. "Do you have any idea where she could be?"

"Not a one," he said. Curiously, he stepped further into the room.

He looked at her steadily, with a half-smile on his face. A smirk. For the first time, Cosette felt an unpleasant warning in her heart, and took a step away from him.

"Is there something else you need?" she volunteered.

"I was going to ask you to come help me look," he confessed, the softness of his voice gone. She noticed that, when he looked at her that way, he did not seem so good looking anymore. "But I think I might be detained here for a while longer."

"Here?" Cosette asked, her voice quivering. She cleared her throat.

"Yes," the young man said, now positively menacing. He stepped closer to her.

"Monsieur, I think maybe you should leave," Cosette said, praying for Toussaint to come back. "Or we can take this conversation out onto the street."

"No, I don't think so," he growled.

One moment, he was several paces away from her, and she was standing looking at him. In another, she was forced to the floor.

He pushed her with a hefty might, and she stumbled, tripping on her skirt.

"What-?" she gasped.

"Shut up!" he growled. He pushed her shoulders to the ground, so she was laying flat on her back on the floor of the living room.

The man kept one hand on her chest, forcing her to stay down. Cosette was hardly able to breathe, and he fumbled with something on the inside of his coat.

She screamed, but the sound only escaped for a second before he produced a knife. She gasped, and the air caught in her throat.

"Shut your mouth, girl," he said, his eyes hungry and terrifying.

His eyes, which had seemed charming only a minute ago, now looked like burning coals, the devil's own stones. Cosette could not move a muscle, let alone make a sound. How had she ever found him charming? The only part of her that seemed to be able to react was her heart, which was beating with an extreme force, as if to assert she was alive.

Cosette was certain that, in a few minutes, she would not be. He would surely slit her throat right here.

But he did not slit her throat- instead, he was lifting her off the ground, only high enough to get his hand behind her back. Before Cosette could realize what he was doing, she heard a tearing sound.

She cried out and started thrashing against him as he tore at her bodice. He stilled, and pressed the knife to her throat again.

"If you don't shut your pretty little mouth," he warned, his breathe foul and sour on her face, "I will carve some nice pictures into your pure, soft white skin." He said the last words like purrs, pressing his face against her neck.

Her eyes were wide in terror as she felt his lips against her neck, and her stomach turned over when she felt his tongue, cold and slimy, lick her skin there. Her hands shook wildly.

He was so close to her that Cosette could feel the roughness of his cheek, smell the tobacco on his breath. Then, he caused her to cry out by kneeling on top of her legs, his entire weight pinning her to the ground. Gripping her hair and twisting it back, he warned her not to make another sound.

Cosette obeyed, fearing his wrath if she didn't, with tears streaming down her face. She tried to escape in her mind, and began to pray silently. In a minute, she lay naked beneath this evil man, who lay on top of her, smiling as though she should be happy he was doing this.

And all she thought he was going to do was kill her. She wished he'd killed her now. This was far, far worse.

Closing her eyes, she continued to pray to God, apologizing for whatever sin she must have done to deserve this. Cosette, who had known her fair share of misery before this, reached a new level when she felt him shove his fingers up inside of her.

"You'll be happy when this is through," he said, planting disgusting kisses on her neck and her face. Feeling like she would heave, Cosette turned her face away.

This angered him.

"Look at me," he commanded. When she did not, he tore at her hair again, forcing her head up. Then, once she was looking at him, he slammed himself into her.

Cosette could not help it- she screamed, sobs wracking her body. She had never felt that kind of pain before- it was unlike being beaten or starved; she could almost taste blood.

He did not stop. Thrusting himself into her again and again, he continued to mutter horrendous words that Cosette had never heard before, but knew they were filthy. Her back chafed on the rough, cheap carpet on the ground. Each time she opened her eyes, she only saw his face, and she knew she had never hated anyone before this. But now she felt hatred boil inside of her and she longed to kill him.

But Cosette would not let herself give into evil. She closed her eyes, and tried to shut her ears, to rid herself of the noises he was making and the triumphant gleam in his eye.

She had thought the worst thing a man could do was hit you, or kill you. She'd seen men from the galleys- they were dirty, huge, animalistic. This man was pretty like a girl, and was more evil than she could have even imagined.

The image of the snake from the story of Adam and Eve flashed into her mind. That was right. He was a snake. The devil's own servant.

After almost ten minutes of this torture, he shuddered and gave a revolting sigh. Cosette glared at him with utter loathing, but remembered something her father had told her.

He did not approve of violence, but he'd told her one thing about how to deter a male attacker. He had told her where to kick them, should it ever be necessary. Cosette, who did not generally endorse violence either, suddenly realized she would never have a more necessary time.

She played it well; she turned her gaze from disgust to sweetness.

"So that's it, is it?" he said as he pulled out of her. "I've changed your mind? I told you you'd enjoy-"

She kneed him with all her might, and watched as he convulsed, his eyes closing. He did not make a sound at first, but then he cried out, grunting in pain. She made her next move quickly. She felt behind her frantically, until her hand closed on the cool silver of one of the candlesticks her father brought everywhere with them. Dreading it, but also savoring it, she smashed the candlestick onto her attacker's head.

He fell against her, knocked out. Crying out in disgust, Cosette used most of her strength to push the man off her.

Standing was difficult- she was bleeding, and could not walk without wincing. But she knew she had only a minute or so of complete safety. She found her gown, and put it on without her corset, thanking the thick material. It would not show the fact that she had forsaken undergarments. On another day, she would have never gone out that way, but then she hardly cared.

She did, however, take the time to stash the candlesticks in a cabinet above the kitchen table. If he wanted to steal, he would not take those.

With that, Cosette left the apartment.

But where to go?

Her father would not be home for another day. Another girl would have gone to the police, but the thought of those frightening men in their uniforms only made her heart pound more. Police, her father had always warned, could not be trusted completely. They always had their own agenda.

Then she remembered Marius had given her his address. She'd even written it down- the adrenaline pumping through her helped her recall the street name, but not the number.

Forgetting that he was supposed to be out, Cosette just put as much distance as she could between she and her own apartment. She asked a woman with a child for directions, like her father said to do if she ever got lost.

After stopping several more times for directions, Cosette found the rue de le Verrerie. After some more inquiries, she found what must be his building. A quick conversation with the porter, who saw only a hysterical girl and not any kind of threat, let her up.

* * *

><p>Marius did not speak for a long time. Cosette had told her story straight, almost tearlessly. She sat beside him, looking at the opposite wall and never at him, her voice emotionless as she talked.<p>

Marius got up then, his movement strict and powerful. His fists were clenched, and there was tension in his jaw. His eyes were intense, and a vein throbbed insistently in his temple.

"I'm going. Where did you say your apartment was?"

"What?" Cosette asked, not expecting this reaction.

"I am going to your apartment," Marius said through clenched teeth, pacing back and forth frantically. "He might still be there. That bastard- I'll _kill _him-"

"No, no you mustn't!" Cosette pleaded.

"He will _not _get away with this! What the hell is wrong with the porter, letting him up? Cosette, stay here, I'll be back-"

"_No!"_ she screamed.

Marius stilled then, and looked at her. He had never seen her look so terrified.

"Don't leave," she begged in a small voice, her eyes huge. Though her volume was soft, the intensity of her plea was unshakable. "_Don't leave me alone."_

_"_I won't," he promised. His vengeful thoughts pounded in the back of his head, demanding attention. Cosette's tearful expression drove him back to his senses.

Killing a man would make him no better than this man, in the eyes of the law. Actually, it would make him worse.

"I'll stay," he promised. "But he will not get away with this. Tell me again what he looked like."

"Not now," Cosette pleaded, shielding her face from the light and from her sight against Marius. "I don't want to think about it now."

"You don't have to," he said soothingly. "You're safe here. No one will touch you ever again, I won't let them."

"May I stay here?" she asked.

"Of course," he said. "Do you want me to get the police?"

"No," she said sternly. "I don't want to talk to the police."

"Why not? Cosette, they might help-"

"It was shameful enough, telling you," she explained. "I won't tell strangers about this. No matter what, they can't make him take back what he did to me. And I don't trust the police."

"Alright then," Marius said, not knowing what he could do to help. "A doctor? How badly are you hurt?"

"I don't want to talk to anyone else tonight," she pleaded. "Just let me stay here."

"Of course you'll stay here," he said again. He rose up and filled a teapot, boiling some water over the fire. While it heated, he went into his and Courfeyrac's bedroom, where he stuffed away the belongings strewn about the room (all Courfeyrac's). He put the extra, clean blanket on the bed that they only used during cold nights, and took the old worn one with him for the couch.

When the water was done boiling, he made her a cup of tea, and took the rest back into his bedroom. He filled a washbasin with the hot water, and put a clean linen cloth by it. Then he put one of his nightshirts on the bed.

"Sleep, Cosette," he advised when he came back out. It was already dark outside, and she looked like she had been through hell.

Well, she had, he knew.

She nodded, and rose up. Without a word, she went into the bedroom.

He sat on the couch for a few minutes, his stomach in knots, churning and stewing in hatred and anger.

No one would hurt Cosette in Courfeyrac's apartment, he knew. The porter was a good man. He could just drop a word to him that no one, not a soul, was to come up to the apartment.

Then once she was asleep, he could leave.

And kill him.

He was interrupted when the door to the bedroom opened again. Cosette emerged, the nightshirt hanging nearly to the floor. If he'd been in the mood, he could have laughed.

But the look in her eyes stopped him.

"You'll be here, won't you?" she asked. "You won't leave?"

He shook his head, feeling his hopes of revenge shatter again. "I'll be right here."

As if to prove it, he drew his legs up onto the couch, too, and covered himself in the old worn blanket. "If you need anything, wake me up. I won't mind."

She nodded. He did not know what to say to help make this better; she looked like a ghost. The only solid thoughts he could maintain right now were violent ones, and he knew that was the last thing she needed.

He offered up the only words he could think of.

"I love you," he said softly.

The sad look on her face actually lightened a bit at that. Her eyes seemed to brighten.

"Thank you."

* * *

><p>"Where the hell isMontparnasse?" Thenardier growled.<p>

Babet shrugged.

"You," Thenardier spat at him. "You were supposed to distract that porter. What happened?"

"I did!" he said. "I got him all the way around the corner, explaining directions. He was off his post nearly five minutes- enough forMontparnasseto get in."

"But you didn't see him come out?"

"No," Babet spat. "And when he didn't for nearly twenty minutes, I gave up on him! I left! It was broad daylight! We shouldn't have been staging a kidnapping in broad daylight."

"Only because the little lark wouldn't come out in the night," Thenardier reminded. "We had to get her to think she was coming willingly, remember?"

Gueulemer shrugged. Claquesous, who would have much preferred doing this by night, kept his mouth shut. Thenardier could rant and rave as he liked, but it wasMontparnasse's neck on the line if he was caught, not any of theirs.

Suddenly the door burst open, andMontparnasseentered the room. He was a large, purple lump on his forehead, a crazed look in his eye, and no girl on his arm.

"What the hell have you been doing?" Thenardier demanded. "Where is she?"

"She ran off- she's a feisty, violent thing you can't hold down."

"Of course you can," Gueulemer protested. "Get a good hand round her neck, and she'll come with you!"

"That wasn't the point, idiot," Babet snapped. "We only sent you because we thought she'd follow you. We didn't send you to go and get yourself damn near arrested. What happened?"

"Well I went in to get her, and she was just... all alone. Did anyone tell what a pretty little thing she is?"

"We all saw her before," Thenardier reminded him.

"Well I didn't remember! So I thought to take some liberties before I got her here-"

"We didn't send you so you could act like a drunken dandy. We sent you to _get the girl here!_"

"Where all you would have been to try and take her first,"Montparnassesaid. "But at least this way, I had her first. But she knocked me out with something, and when I woke up she was long gone."

"But now you lost her." Thenardier said this simply, and was already walking in a circle, recalculating.

"I don't see what the damn point was. The apartment was in shambles, a poor little place,"Montparnassewhined, not liking the blame for this to be all on him. "Why don't we set our sights higher?"

They ignored him.

"Now she'll tell her father, and with one description to the police, they'll know it was us," Babet complained.

"Oh no," Thenardier said with a gleaming smile. The rest of his gang did not know the story, and he was pleased to withhold the information from them. Still, he reveled in this. "They won't tell. That man won't tell a soul."

* * *

><p><strong>Reviews? Pretty please?<strong>


	3. Confession

Marius could not sleep, for obvious reasons. It was not even very late, but that was not the reason he could not shut his eyes.

Though he did not witness it, he could see Cosette's rape as if it had happened in front of him. He could picture her attacker. He could practically hear her cries, despite the fact that she was quiet in the next room.

At about ten, he heard a key scrape in the lock. Courfeyrac let himself in.

"Hello," he said, from his spot on the couch.

"I left something," Courfeyrac said, and made his way to the bedroom.

"You can't go in there," Marius said, sitting up. "Cosette is sleeping in there."

Courfeyrac looked at Marius, and let out a long breath of air in a low whistle. He crossed his arms over his chest, and started to laugh.

"The day has come, my friend!" he exclaimed.

"What day?" Marius asked, not really finding Courfeyrac's jokes particularly funny right now.

"The day when _you_ are kicking _me_ out of the apartment so you can have a girl in your bed. Of course, ironically, the first night you ever have a girl in your bed, you sleep on the couch... So, I still win." He flashed a good natured smile at his friend, who ordinarily would have laughed, but didn't. Courfeyrac stalled. "I suppose I don't need those things. Not a problem."

Marius did not answer him.

"I actually came back to see if everything was alright," Courfeyrac explained. "She seemed hysterical before. Unless that's how she always is, I wouldn't know, since you've never _introduced me... _But really, is everything alright? Are either of you in any danger?"

Marius put his head in his hands, his elbows resting on his knees. "Someone hurt her, Courfeyrac," he said weakly. "Horribly."

His friend had no idea what to say.

"I contemplated _murder_ tonight," Marius continued, his voice awed. His hands clenched into fists.

"By God- why?" Courfeyrac exclaimed.

Marius rose up and looked his friend in the face. He was shocked. Either the thought had frightened him, or he had no possible way to comprehend that Marius was capable of that kind of thought. And suddenly something occurred to Marius: despite all of Courfeyrac's talk of women, mistresses, sex and playing around, he had never been in love. Not real love- many light loves, maybe, but not anything strong enough to move him. That was probably why Marius could never remember the name of Courfeyrac's latest girl- or girls. "Someone hurt her," he just repeated, by way of explanation.

"Do you need me to do anything? I could get a doctor, some food, bandages, ice, anything-"

"No, she's sleeping now, that's probably the best thing for her. Not that I have any idea what to do, mind. Her father isn't home tonight- I pray he has a better idea of how to handle this than I do. I have no idea how to help. But thank you for offering."

"It's easy enough, I'm going out now anyway. Is she... going to be alright?"

"I don't know. I really have no idea how scarred she'll be."

"What happened?" Courfeyrac asked, very seriously, actually concerned.

Marius looked at him, his face stony and humorless. Courfeyrac understood.

"I'm no saint," Courfeyrac said after a long silence, "But I think any man who does something like that should go straight to Hell. What are they trying to prove?"

Marius did not answer. He knew if he tried to, he would say something horrible.

They were quiet for a long time, and Courfeyrac recognized that there wasn't anything he could do. He never knew what to say in emotionally sensitive situations- he was better at laughing, cheering someone up. Marius did not want to be cheered, that much was obvious. It would be terribly indelicate to even try. Courfeyrac had spent far too much time for his liking with a tearful mistress, and so was somewhat good at cheering women up. Men were a different story. He coughed, feeling out of place, and excused himself.

"Again, you know where to find me."

"Be careful," Marius bid again.

"Mary!" Courfeyrac said slyly.

Rolling his eyes, Marius asked whether Courfeyrac would be back the following morning.

"I'll stop by; I'll need to change for the funeral. I'll see you in the morning, and then by the afternoon: social change!" he exclaimed, excitement coming from every pore. His face, which was covered in shadow, even seemed to brighten a bit. "Justice!"

Courfeyrac left then, slapping Marius on the back.

"Justice," Marius muttered after Courfeyrac left, the word leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. "Justice, like how Cosette won't call the police. Justice."

* * *

><p>In the morning, Marius did not expect Courfeyrac to come for breakfast, so he cut what was left of the bread they had, and cooked both the eggs the landlady brought up for them. Cosette came out a few minutes later dressed in her regular clothes again, looking as if she had about as much sleep as he did.<p>

She was silent. She ate what he gave her, but it occurred to him that it was maybe only because he'd cooked, and she didn't want to waste anything.

"What time does your father get home?" he asked finally.

"He said about three," Cosette informed.

"What do you want to do until then? Are you sure you don't want a doctor?"

"Yes," she said firmly. "And I don't know. I realized I was keeping you from something last night. You were going to go... I don't know where. The other night you said you had some business to take care of."

Marius shook his head. "It does not matter. I was going to see my grandfather, but you are far more important."

"What were you planning on doing today?" she asked.

"I really had no idea," he confessed truthfully.

The thought of going for a walk occurred to both of them. Cosette didn't want to because she was in pain, but did not say so. Marius did not think it was a good idea, what with the possible revolts that were going to spring up around the city that afternoon. Neither brought the idea up to the other.

Before they had decided anything, the door opened and Courfeyrac came in. Cosette looked uncomfortable- she was in his home, after all, and somewhat intruding. As far as she knew, she'd put him out for the night. But he did not seem to mind. He smiled rather pleasantly at her, and presented her with a bright bouquet of freesias.

Her eyes widened in surprise, and she looked up at him, not understanding, and not taking the flowers.

"It's not every day we have such a lovely guest," he said simply. "And I never properly introduced myself. My name's Courfeyrac, and I'm Marius' greatest friend."

"And he's humble too," Marius murmured, but was smiling.

"Bon jour," Cosette said, still surprised and looking unable to comprehend what he was doing. "My name is Cosette."

"I'd like to say I've heard so much about you, but I do not have that luxury, Mademoiselle. This one here," he jerked his head in Marius' direction, "has kept pretty mum about you. He's been hilariously secretive about it all. But if you are the reason my friend has been smiling in the past few months, then you deserve these more than I can say." He tried handing her the flowers again.

This time, she accepted them, flushing, but smiling.

"I cannot express how pleased I am to meet you," he said honestly. "I think we got off to something of a rough start yesterday."

Cosette actually laughed. Marius, ordinarily ready to be jealous of his own shadow, was pleasantly amazed. He knew how Courfeyrac could be with women, but he also trusted him absolutely. Marius was in a mood where he would do absolutely anything to make Cosette smile. Courfeyrac had an easy charm with people, and was good at bringing good humor to people. It was amazing, though, that he'd managed to make her _laugh._ Marius reminded himself, next time he wanted to get into a fight with Courfeyrac, not to discount him so quickly. Despite what he would want you to believe, he was a good man.

* * *

><p>Cosette wanted to see what he did during the day, so he got out his language dictionaries and one of the documents he was supposed to be translating. She helped him look up some words in German that he did not know, and was bored when the document turned out to be something dull, and not exotic or exciting. When he put the books back, she followed him into the bedroom, and he showed her some of the books he kept under his bed: French, English, and German plays and novels, historical research, and political books. Though most of it was dreadfully boring, she enjoyed leafing through some of them, reading the comments he'd written in the margins.<p>

At three o'clock, Cosette looked nervously at Marius, and her hands started to shake.

"Would you like to walk? You've been inside all day, and your apartment is very close," he said. He realized something, and flushed. "Are you in pain?"

He knew nearly nothing about the female anatomy, and did not particularly feel comfortable asking.

"I'd actually like to walk," she said, avoiding the question, her own face red. "I need to get out."

They left then, Cosette gripping Marius' hand very hard. Ten minutes later, they arrived at Cosette's apartment. She had taken a much longer route, but Marius knew the area much better and got them there in an efficient way.

The porter let them up, recognizing Cosette, and she knocked on her door. Toussaint answered, and showed them in, staring open mouthed at Marius, and not noticing how frightened Cosette looked. The fact that there was a young man with her was more interesting.

Cosette walked about three feet into the apartment, but stopped dead when she looked into the living room. She froze, the memories hitting her anew, until she could not even breathe. She felt the man's hands between her legs, his weight on her chest, his wet, cold mouth on her lips...

She started to shake, and walked backwards until she hit Marius. He put his hands on her shoulders and gripped, hard, giving her a shake.

"Cosette!" he whispered with intensity.

"Sorry," she said, shutting her eyes tight. "Get me out of this room, please."

"Right," he said.

Toussaint was already leaving, missing this whole exchange, and announcing to Cosette's father that she was back. Marius led Cosette into the next room, which was the kitchen. Cosette put Courfeyrac's flowers on the kitchen table. He barely even had time to be frightened of her father.

When the large, intimidating man finally saw him, he rose himself up to his full height- a full head taller than Marius- and looked so menacing that Marius actually gulped. But then he gathered his strength- Cosette had been through something far worse, something he would never understand. He could surely breathe her loving, if protective, father, if she'd survived a violent attack.

"Monsieur Fauchelevent, my name is Marius Pontmercy-"

"You're from the Luxembourg," the man said, recognizing him immediately. "The one who always followed us."

"Yes," Marius said, surprised. He noticed that Cosette's father looked not quite so menacing anymore, but fearful. The thought was absurd to Marius. He didn't like to think of himself as weak, but it was clear that Monsieur Fauchelevent was stronger than him, by far. He had Cosette. He had everything. Why was he afraid of Marius?

Then his eyes looked down at Cosette, whose eyes were closed. She was still trembling, Marius' hands still on her shoulders.

She opened her eyes. Marius squeezed her shoulders reassuringly, helping her to gather the will to begin.

"Father... I..." she began, and swallowed hard. "I... Yesterday..."

She turned away from them both, covering her face with her hands.

"I can't say it," she mumbled, almost inaudible.

"Shall I start?" Marius volunteered, not really wanting to be the messenger to deliver this horrific news, but willing to help.

She nodded.

"You eloped," Monsieur Fauchelevent said, his fear now potent.

"No," Marius interrupted after he gathered his thoughts, which were so far from an elope that it took a few moments. "No, that would be- no. It's something else, something worse... Yesterday, after you left, Cosette was alone in the apartment, and the porter must have been away from his post, or he let someone up who shouldn't have."

Cosette turned back around, and gripped Marius' hand, but she did not volunteer to continue.

"He came into the apartment where your daughter was and he..." Marius trailed off, not able to say it. Monsieur Fauchelevent's eyes were wide, fearful and angry at the same time, and Marius could not look into them and say what happened.

"He attacked me," Cosette finished coolly. "He lied and said he needed help finding his sister, who was lost. But that wasn't what he came for at all. He tore my dress off and he pushed me onto the floor and- oh, God, I can't." She turned around again, away from her father, and Marius knew she was finding the same trouble saying the news to his heartbreaking eyes. She buried her face against Marius. He put a hand on her back, but it only took a moment before she gathered her strength to turn around.

Her father was staring, waiting for them to continue. Marius admired his patience- he had been on the verge of interrupting Cosette about a hundred times when she told him the story, and she'd said it much more steadily to him.

"He threatened me with a knife... he wouldn't let me up. And he... well... I'm sure you know..."

She dissolved into tears then, and Marius put his hands on her shoulders again.

"But hear what she did next," he said encouragingly. "It was amazing. Cosette, tell him what you did."

She wiped her tears. "I kicked him," she said, flushing. "You know, how you told me to. And then I took one of those candlesticks, and I knocked him out with it. I know I shouldn't be violent, but-"

"Don't apologize," Valjean interrupted for the first time.

"Then I got dressed, and ran. I went to Marius'- he'd given me his address a few nights ago. I stayed at his apartment, since you weren't home."

"You were very brave, Cosette," Marius said softly, realizing he hadn't said this yet. Cosette was not weak: she'd proved this by rescuing herself from her attacker, while other girls would have just grown tearful and unable to think, leading to their deaths. But she was terrified and it was clear she needed encouragement. "Braver than I can ever imagine being."

Monsieur Fauchelevent was quiet for a very long time. Then he opened his arms to Cosette, who, sobbing, stumbled into them.

"Cosette, have you seen a doctor?"

"No- I told Marius no, I did not want to. I don't want to tell anyone else, it's horrible-"

"Cosette, it was not your fault," he said seriously, pulling away and looking into her eyes. "Do you hear me? _It was not your fault."_

She did not answer, just enfolded herself back into her father's arms. He mumbled something that Marius caught.

"What I would do if I ever came across that man..."

"No!" Cosette exclaimed, breaking away again, her eyes wild. "No! Why are you both doing this? You and Marius both- you keep talking like you are going to become monsters, and go off killing someone. _You can't!_ Don't become someone like that... please."

"Cosette, we're not going to kill anyone," Marius promised. She turned her attention back to him. Both their eyes were red, from lack of sleep and from tears. "We promised you we won't. We won't. We just can't stand the thought of anyone hurting you-"

Cosette interrupted him by throwing her arms around his waist, burying her face in his chest. She held him very tightly, but Marius did not wrap his arms around her. He hesitated, thinking that any kind of physical contact from anyone other than her father would be utterly unwanted. He didn't want her to run away, fearful, thinking he'd anything other than trying to offer her protection. So he left his hands at his sides.

She pulled back, her eyes hurt. "Why won't you touch me?" she demanded.

Taken aback, he did not answer.

"You held me like this in the rue plumet," she escaladed, pushing against his chest, as if trying to get him to react. "Why won't you touch me now? Because someone else did? I'm not _good_ enough anymore!"

She walked a step away from him, her blue eyes fierce. "Am I ruined now? You don't want me!"

"No- Cosette, sweetheart, that is not it at _all," _Marius backtracked desperately, but she did not want to hear it.

Shaking her head and turning around, she excused herself. "I couldn't sleep last night. Excuse me. I'm going to my room, I'm going to try and sleep."

Marius stared after her as she left, wanting to run after her and explain, but not wanting to make things worse either.

When she left, Monsieur Fauchelevent fell into a chair. Marius looked at him, still slack in the face, and the old man gestured loosely to an empty chair.

Marius sat down, and ran one of his hands through his hair anxiously. "I didn't mean to hurt her. I just didn't want to scare her."

"Do you know who did it?" Valjean asked, feeling a sense of camaraderie over the common source of hatred: Cosette's attacker.

"No. She didn't know. She said he was young, about twenty, with dark hair. And fashionable clothes," he added, so the description wouldn't sound like himself.

Monsieur Fauchelevent looked up at Marius for a long time, long enough for the young man to grow uncomfortable. "Who are you again?"

Marius flushed. Someone else would have laughed, but he was so shy he was embarrassed for this. "Marius Pontmercy. I'm a lawyer, I live near here in the rue de le Verrerie. You recognized me from the Luxembourg... I saw Cosette there, and then I fell in love with her a year ago, and I've been coming to see her at your house in the rue Plumet. I gave her my address when she told me you two were going to move."

"I suppose that was lucky," Valjean remarked, trying to see something positive about the whole situation. "I don't know where she would have gone if not to you."

"The police," Marius remarked.

"No, she wouldn't go there," Valjean said, knowing his daughter well.

"That's right," Marius said, not understanding. "She refused to let me get them, or bring her to the station. It was strange- she was almost as afraid of going there as of seeing the man again."

"Sometimes police aren't to be trusted," Valjean said. "But she does not trust easily. Why would she?" he said, wistful, angry. Images from Cosette's childhood flashed through his mind. He remembered her, freezing and horribly underweight on Christmas Eve all those years before, her hand fitting just in the palm of his own, cold as ice.

Marius watched the shadows cross Cosette's father's face, and presumed they were exclusively from what had happened the night before.

"What did she say when she came over?" Valjean asked.

"She knocked on the door, and my roommate answered. He doesn't know her or even about her, so he was quite surprised. She was hysterical, I couldn't even get her to tell me what happened at first. He left, and she finally told me. She told the same story you just heard, and afterward I just offered her my room and she went to sleep. I didn't know what to do. Today we waited until you were going to be home. The flowers were from my friend; he guessed what happened and I guess he was trying to make her happy. I think it worked; she smiled a little."

Marius bit his lip. He knew that he was clearly not what was important right now- the crisis Cosette had just been through was. But he knew that he was just meeting her father for the first time, and wanted to make sure he made something of a good impression. He remembered Monsieur Fauchelevent's fearful expression from earlier, and he took a stab at understanding it.

"I hope you know I didn't come to your garden to try and steal her away from you. I just... fell in love with her. I didn't decide to. You must understand- you know her better than I do. I could not help it. But I know how much she loves you, and how close you two are, and I know you must think I'm some young, philandering student who just wants to flirt with her and will hurt her later, but I won't. And I'm not just saying that because of what happened to her."

Monsieur Fauchelevent said nothing, and just nodded.

Worried that he'd said too much, Marius changed the subject. "What I don't understand is who would do that, or even _how._ You weren't there, yes, but the two of you had only just moved to this apartment this afternoon, and she said she'd spend scarcely a moment out on the street. How did anyone even know she was living here, or there was a young woman even in this apartment building? Someone must have been watching you, though I have no idea what they would want-"

"Some people," Valjean said slowly, "Want anything they can get their hands on. No matter what it costs anyone else."

* * *

><p><strong>REVIEWS?<strong>

**Please...?**


	4. Potential Recovery

Despite the tragedy, Marius received two bits of good news in the week following Cosette's attack. The first was that the revolution failed- ordinarily he should be upset about this, but when he came home and found Courfeyrac grumbling about nearly avoiding an arrest, he was glad. His friend could have so easily been dead, but les amis were still alive and, mostly, well. Their pride had been wounded, but they were alive. Apparently they were being taken, and someone- not an amis- ran by and shot Inspector Javert, who they held captive. But most of Marius' friends avoided an arrest.

The next bit of news was that Cosette would not be going toEngland. Her father had decided, in the wake of the failed revolution, that he needed to postpone his business and they would not be going. Cosette was not well and did not need a readjustment so quickly following what happened. This served to cheer her up significantly, which in turn made her father happy.

With Monsieur Fauchelevent's permission, Marius came every day to see Cosette. She was actually getting better rather quickly. Three weeks following the attack, she was able to laugh with Marius. Valjean was surprised to see them laugh so hard; this Marius seemed very serious and boring and not humorous at all. But when he would sit with Cosette, the two would somehow find something to laugh about, no matter what.

Most days Marius just kept the conversation light, which served well for Cosette.

For his part, Valjean reluctantly found himself liking Marius. Not because of his personality or any kind of friendship, but after enough daily visits it became clear that he was loyal, and he made Cosette happy. Valjean did not know if there was anything else he could ask for; if he had to share Cosette with someone, he would prefer it was someone who was good to her. And Monsieur Pontmercy was.

Cosette was getting better, but she was not healthy. They had moved back into the rue plumet, because she could not bear to be near the living room where she had been attacked. She talked freely to Marius and her father, but would clam up at the thought of talking to anyone else. The mere suggestion of going out sent her into a distrustful state. Valjean had moved a bed into the house in the rue plumet, rather than sleeping in the cottage on the property. She was afraid of being alone in the house at night, so Valjean set up a bed in the living room, directly beneath Cosette's bedroom.

Three weeks following the event, Cosette was not feeling well. When it lasted a few days, Valjean called a doctor in the morning.

That afternoon, Marius came by to visit. He had a story about Courfeyrac to tell Cosette- this was somewhat rare, as most stories about Courfeyrac worth repeating were far to bawdy to share with anyone who was not extremely familiar with Courfeyrac. He was in high spirits- July had begun, and the full swing of summer was underway.

But when he arrived at the rue plumet, he was greeted by a grim-faced Monsieur Fauchelevent.

"I'm sorry, Monsieur Pontmercy," Monsieur Fauchelevent said, "But you will not be able to visit with Cosette today."

"Is she ill?" was Marius' first thought.

"Somewhat," he answered.

"I can't see her for even a minute?" Marius asked.

"No," Monsieur Fauchelevent said, looking on the verge of saying something. He closed his eyes and shook his head. "She would prefer not."

"She _asked_ not to see me?" Marius asked, hurt and not understanding.

Monsieur Fauchelevent guiltily nodded.

Marius stepped back, not knowing what to say. He looked away so Monsieur Fauchelevent could not see the pain on his face. Cosette didn't want to see him. What had he done?

"I'll try and talk to her. If you come back tomorrow she might see you."

"Right... I'll... do that," Marius said, and excused himself.

He returned the following day and found Monsieur Fauchelevent just as grave as he had been the day before. "May I see her today?"

Monsieur Fauchelevent said that Cosette was not ready to see him yet.

For four days, Marius returned and was turned away. He was very confused and somewhat angry- if she did not want to see him, surely she could at least tell him _why!_

Finally, on the fifth day, Monsieur Fauchelevent told him that Cosette would see him.

"Is something the matter?" Marius demanded. "I think I should be able to know."

"I think... she should tell you," Monsieur Fauchelevent said, enigmatically. In Marius' opinion, he was being needlessly mysterious.

He found Cosette in the living room in a heavy dressing gown, looking very pale. There were a stack of pillows behind her back, no doubt the work of an ever-doting Madame Toussaint.

Any anger he'd had dissipated when he saw her; surely she was very sick! She looked absolutely miserable. Worry replaced his hurt over being rejected.

"Cosette," he said softly, and smiled at her, taking a seat beside her. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine," she said shortly, stiffly.

He checked. She did not smile at him. She scarcely even _looked _at him.

"Are you angry with me?" he asked, wanting to get to the point of her stand-offish attitude.

"No," she said with very clear articulation, honestly enough. "I am not."

"Then what is the matter?"

She took a deep breath, closing her eyes.

"Marius," she said, as though she was summing up the strength to say what she had to say. She opened her eyes, but still would not look at him. "I was feeling ill, so my father called a doctor-"

"Are you alright?" he interrupted.

"Let me finish!" she said sharply. "This isn't easy to say."

Marius quieted, waiting.

She prepared herself once more, and then said the next sentence very fast. "He told me that... I'm pregnant."

Silence hung in the air, thick and impenetrable.

Marius could scarcely feel his hands or his feet, and had a profound feeling of not being present in the moment. Cosette was still not looking at him.

He did not respond. He knew he should say something, but he found he could not find any words.

A minute went by with neither of them talking, and then another.

_Cosette is pregnant, _he thought over and over again. It was not possible.

But it was. And it was happening.

He needed to think.

"Cosette- I..." he said, needing an excuse to leave. He was completely overwhelmed, and he needed time with his thoughts. No excuse came to his mind, but he stood anyway. "I... excuse me."

He quickly leaned over and kissed her forehead, and then got up, with one more quick "goodbye" before he was gone.

Finally, once she heard the front door shut behind him, Cosette dissolved into tears. She had not cried in the first five days after she found out, but she was crying now, for she knew what this would bring.

* * *

><p>"They're back at the house with the garden," Claquesous informed the group. "Montparnesse and I just saw the old man through the gate!"<p>

"Perfect," Thenardier said. "We'll move in then. But this time," he rounded on Montparnesse, "You will have _nothing_ to do with it. Once we've got her, do whatever you want for all I care. But you will not ruin this for us again. We're going to have to be more careful by tenfold; they'll be alert now."

"How to we get to her?" Brujon asked, already feeling the strength in his muscles.

"We watch," Thenardier said. "We find out when he father leaves, and we move in."

"He doesn't," Claquesous said. "He sends the old woman out for food. He doesn't leave her."

"Then he knows," Thenardier said, and cursed. "Well we'll still watch. Keep in the shadows. Find out where her room is, and we'll go in through the gate. I'm sure it's old enough to break."

"Are you thinking the windows?"

"That's exactly what I'm thinking," Thenardier said. "Windows, and trees."

* * *

><p><strong>I know this is a short one... reviews please? <strong>

**Please?**

**Please?**


	5. A Solution

Marius did not return the following day. Cosette waited, tense and anxious, but as the hours ticked by there was no knock at the door. She tried not to show her disappointment, but it was very clear. She retired early.

Valjean had no patience for the young man. He had started to like him, and started to believe that he was responsible and loyal, and then this happened. He tried to be understanding- the boy was twenty-one, for goodness' sake, and hardly ready for this kind of news. Cosette being pregnant changed everything. She could not simply recover from the attack- she would have evidence of it every day. Valjean did not expect Marius to have done anything in relation to Cosette or the baby, except to stop by sometimes to keep Cosette happy.

Even he knew this was unfair. He could not expect Marius to live his life half-attached to Cosette, stopping by occasionally, never seeing anyone else, just to keep her happy, when she was the mother of someone else's' child. It was too much to ask, especially of a man who still had heavy vestiges of 'boy' in him.

Valjean had this to rest easy on: the money. No matter what, Cosette would not fall like her mother. No one else knew this, but it did not matter. She was safe. He did, however, worry for her psychological state. She was not in any state to trust people, and she had rested her trust solely on Marius and Valjean. If he betrayed her, Valjean did not know how she would recover. So despite knowing he could not expect everything from Marius, he was incredibly upset with the young man.

The following morning, a note arrived from Marius. He apologized for not coming to see her the following day, but unfortunately could not come that day either. He had something important come up.

_More important than Cosette?_ Valjean thought bitterly. Cosette once again hid her pain, but it was obvious.

A third day arrived with no Marius, and Valjean sat Cosette down.

"I know you're scared," he said. "But we are going to make this right, Cosette."

"_How,_ father?" she asked, for once not having complete faith in him. Her blue eyes were wide and scared. "A month ago I didn't know anything about any of this, and now I'm having a baby... and I'm not married, and I never _can _marry...! What's going to happen to me?"

"Cosette, I will take care of you," he promised. "And the baby. Cosette, my dear, do not think of this baby as a curse. A baby is an innocent being, even if it was brought into the world through violence. Think of it as a blessing. Something positive came out of this. I promise you when you meet your child, maybe even before then, you will have no doubts for God whatsoever. I pray that you can leave them behind now, and just trust that it was work out."

"It's so hard," Cosette said, tearful. "I never imagined anything like this could happen... And Marius won't even _speak_ to me."

"We can't control others," he said. "We can only control ourselves and make the best of what we have. Make the best of this, Cosette."

* * *

><p>The next day, Valjean was sitting in the living room, reading, but was not concentrating. He was lost in his thoughts when there was a knock at the front door.<p>

Not expecting a visitor, Valjean opened it to find a very nervous looking Marius Pontmercy.

"Hello, Monsieur," he said weakly.

Valjean nodded curtly.

"May I... come in?" Marius asked, his eyes wide.

"I suppose," Valjean said.

"Where is Cosette?" Marius asked once inside.

"She's upstairs taking a bath. She won't be down," Valjean said.

Marius looked relieved. "Oh, good. Um... how is she?"

"She is very upset, thanks to you," Valjean said, unforgiving.

A look of extreme guilt crossed Marius face. "I know, and I'm sorry. I promise I have a very good reason for not coming, though."

"I should hope."

"How is she coping?"

"She is well," Valjean said, and it was clear he would not offer any more information.

Maris swayed back and forth on his feet a little, looking at his hands. Finally, he squared his shoulders and looked up at Monsieur Fauchelevent.

"The past few days I have spent with my grandfather. I asked him for permission to marry."

Valjean's eyes widened, but he did not say anything.

"He is a very stubborn man. He made me return the next day and spent a day with him, and then he demanded I move back into his home. But in the end, after it all, said I was free to marry. So I am here today to ask for your permission to have Cosette's hand in marriage."

Monsieur Fauchelevent stood, pale and staring, for a few moments, before sitting down.

Marius stood for a while, feeling rather uncomfortable in the silence, before he sat as well.

Finally Monsieur Fauchelevent spoke. "Why?"

"After I left the other day, I walked for hours, thinking. I debated lots of things for a very long time, but I finally decided I had to see my grandfather."

"But how would this fix anything?"

"It would fix a _lot_ of things!" Marius said. "If she's going to have a baby, and I marry her- it clears all of that up."

"It won't be your baby."

"It will if I raise it with her," he said. "No, it's not exactly what I thought I would be doing at this point in my life, but I'm just going to leave her to deal with this herself, am I? Moreover, Cosette and I both grew up without mothers for the majority of our lives. I grew up thinking I didn't have any father to speak of, and when I found out I did, it was already too late. No one should grow up like that."

"This is not your responsibility," Monsieur Fauchelevent said.

"I want to marry her because I love her," Marius said. "A month ago, when she came to my apartment in terror, I was getting ready to see my grandfather to ask him about her. So this is not new."

"Why then? Because we were leaving forEngland! Would you want to marry her if there wasn't some kind of crisis going on?"

"Yes!" he said. "But I was not going to ask her in the past month- imagine. It wasn't the right time. But listen... I already asked my grandfather. He told me I had to move back in with him- he's very old, Monsieur, and we have not been speaking for the last few years. He wanted me to live with him, but I said it would not be good for Cosette to be away from you. I didn't tell him what happened, though. So he said you can move in- there's plenty of space, it's certainly the best arrangement for her."

Cosette's father was silent.

"She can be close to you, she'll have the baby, the baby will have my name and so will she, and no one can say anything. The baby will have a better life as well. I _love_ her, Monsieur, and she loves me as well. It was only a matter of time before I came to ask you for her hand anyway; this just sped everything up."

"But why do _you_ want to marry her?" Monsieur Fauchelevent said. "So far you've only said it would make her life better, the baby's life better, it will save her reputation. Well, that's all good, Monsieur Pontmercy, but why do you want to marry my daughter? If all this was not happening, why?"

"I said it already," he said, frustrated that he did not seem to be listening or understanding. "I love her. I'm never happier than when I'm with her. I can't imagine spending my life without her."

The old man sat, thinking, resting his forehead on one of his hands. Finally, he sat up.

"You may ask her."

Marius sat up very straight, his heart beating rapidly, beaming. "Really?"

"Yes, you may."

"Oh, Monsieur," he said emphatically, taking the old man's hand and shaking it with both of his own. "_Thank_ you! Thank you! I promise I'll make her happy, I will."

"I know you will, she loves you," he said softly.

As if on cue, Cosette came downstairs then, in a light cotton summer dress, her hair wet and braided back. She stopped when she saw Marius there.

She expected herself to be angry with him, but when she saw him, she was overjoyed, and an immense feeling of relief took over.

"Cosette," he said, smiling at her and standing up. He looked incredibly happy about something, and it made her a little nervous. He walked over to her and took her hands in his own, bringing them to his lips. "Can you forgive me?"

"Yes," she said without any thought at all, and then wondered if she was being foolish.

"Will you come outside with me?" he asked, and then quickly glanced back at her father, who just shrugged and nodded. "I have to talk to you."

She was nervous again, but he looked so happy that it couldn't be anything bad, could it?

He led her out into the garden, where he told her he'd missed her terribly in the past few days and told her he really did not have a chance to see her- but he'd get back to that later.

"How are you doing?"

"I'm..." she began, but realized she did not know how to say what she was feeling. "It's a lot to go through," she summed up. "I don't know how I'm going to handle this."

He took her hand then, and looked about the garden. "I remember when I came home after the first night I spoke to you, I couldn't sleep all night. I was so happy, so excited. It was as if my life and turned completely around- I was so used to being alone and being out of step with everyone, and then you came along, and you were even better than I'd thought you would be... and I didn't have to be alone anymore."

She smiled. "I had no idea what was happening to me. It took about a week before I realized that you were going to keep coming back."

"Where else would I go?"

"Well, I didn't think I was very interesting."

"Cosette," he said, bringing her hand up and pressing it against his, flat out, "I am meant to be beside you."

Cosette wrapped her arms around his neck then, and gently embraced him. "Then where were you these past few days?"

He disentangled her, but kept her hands in his own. "That's what I want to talk about. Cosette... I love you more than... well I can't even capture it. You brought light to my life, and taught me what goodness and kindness were. It kills me that someone ever tried to hurt you, and I want to make sure that never happens again. I want to make you happy. I want to be with you every day for the rest of my life. Cosette..." He took a deep breath. "Will you marry me?"

Her eyes grew very wide for a minute, and she looked shocked, before she beamed and threw her arms around him again. "Yes! Yes, of course I will!"

He closed his eyes in contentment, and held her to him for a long time. "I was at my grandfather's these past few days, trying to convince him to let me marry you," he said. "I already asked your father- it's all settled."

She pulled away, looking worried. "What about...?"

"I'm not marrying you because you are pregnant," he promised. "But you should know I have thought about that. If you marry me, neither you and the baby will ever have to face any kind of backlash for this. The baby will have a father- I'll be there when they walk, and I'll teach them to read and write and Cosette, this would have happened anyway, wouldn't it?"

"Yes," she breathed. She had, previously, entertained thoughts of herself and Marius with children, but had not expected it this quickly. "Won't you mind that the baby isn't...?"

He held up a hand. "Let's stop that now, shall we? The baby _will _be mine. If I raise them, and they have my name, and I love them, who's to say they aren't my child? No one will know the truth except for the three of us- you, me, and your father- but I'd prefer we just acknowledge that that man is never getting close to you again, or this child. We just shut him away. Cosette, he's gone."

"You're right," she said. "Oh, one forgets to trust in God!" she exclaimed. "I was thinking, 'what am I going to do?' and here you are, like a guardian angel... This is our chance, Marius. Our baby, you're right. I love you," she declared, and embraced him again.

"We have a choice- we can marry very quickly, when no one knows about you, or we can wait. The problem is that my grandfather won't let me marry you if he knows you are going to have a baby, so we'd have to wait until I'm twenty-five. Of course, I'd rather marry you _today,_ if I had a choice, but as long as I know I'll have you one day, I can wait, if it makes anything easier for you."

"No," she said, shaking her head and smiling. "No, I want what you want. How soon can we marry?"

"As soon as we can get a priest to marry us!" he said, feeling absolutely elated.

"Let's go find out, shall we?" she said, springing up and tugging him inside by his hand. "Let's go!"

* * *

><p>Cosette's dreams that night were calm and sweet. She felt herself drifting towards consciousness, though, and opened her eyes.<p>

It was still the middle of the night- her room was black, except for the square of the open window, the curtains blowing in the wind, moonlight flooding onto a patch of light on the floor.

Then she heard it- a creak of a floorboard, only a few steps away from her.

Panic set in that quickly. She tried to make her breath quiet, but it was difficult with her heart pounding in her breast that way. A shadow crossed across the window- it was in the shape of a man, a small, thin, hunched-over man. She stifled her gasp into her pillow, which she was holding over her face.

If she got out of bed, he would hear her, and surely come slit her throat... or worse. She went cold and clammy at the thought of another monster's hands on her, forcing her to the ground. Tears squeezed through her eyes. Her lungs burned, for she was restricting her breath so much. She was afraid to make any kind of noise.

If she screamed, her father would wake. But what if the man got to her faster?

Then she noticed something odd. He was climbing _out_ the window.

She lay completely still, hoping he was leaving. She waited, and waited... and finally he was gone. She counted to one hundred, to make sure he was long gone. Then, summoning her courage, she got out of bed and looked out the window into the garden- no one was there.

Trembling, Cosette went back to her bedside table and lit a match, and then a candle. She was not planning on being able to sleep again, but she glanced at her bed.

Her eyes landed on something, right next to the impression her body had made in the sheets, the covers rumpled from her sleep.

This time she did not freeze.

Her scream was loud and clear, but she could hardly hear it, for the blood was pounding so in her ears. It was a wordless, terror-filled cry, before she finally got her wits together to make a word.

"_Father!"_

* * *

><p><strong>Please review this!<strong>

**Like... please... I would love to hear what you think!**


	6. A Wedding

"Cosette!" her father said, bursting through the door, looking frantically around the room for an attacker. "What's wrong?"

Hand shaking, she pointed at the bed, where a dagger was stabbed into the pillow, right next to where she rested her head.

"Someone was in here," she said, tearful. "I heard them- they were climbing out the window..."

Her father ran to the window and looked out, just as she had.

"He's long gone by now... but then they put _this_ in my pillow...!"

He returned to her side and pulled the dagger out; it was covered in a dark something that Cosette's eyes widened at.

"Wait- look," she said, and moved the pillow. A dirty piece of paper stuck out.

She held it out for her father, who read:

_Hiding does no good._

"Father," she said, shaking. "It's him, father, I know it is- they're going to find me again..."

"Hush," he said, and took her into his arms in a fatherly, protective embrace. "No one is going to hurt you," he promised.

They went downstairs, waking Toussaint.

"What do you need, Mademoiselle? My Goodness, it's so frightening... people bursting in the middle of the night, and you're so afraid they'll get their fingers round your throat! Terrifying, those robbers, I often wonder what will happen to the world..." The old woman babbled, and then shook herself out of it with Valjean coughed. "I'll make you some tea."

"No, please," Cosette said. "Could you go and get Marius?"

"It's two-thirty in the morning," her father said gently. "He's probably asleep."

Cosette shook her head. "He deserves to know. He would be upset if he found out later. I want to see him."

Valjean sighed, and offered to go. Cosette looked up, frightened- she did not want her father to leave her.

"Fine- Madame Toussaint, would you mind going? I will get you a fiacre."

"Anything for Mademoiselle," she said, though she was very tired and it was not clear if she meant it.

About forty minutes later, a key scraped in the lock and Madame Toussaint entered, Marius in tow.

Cosette had long since stopped crying, but she was still jumpy and edgy, and as soon as she saw Marius, she calmed a little as if he were a kind of anesthetic.

She leapt up from her seat and into his arms.

"What's going on?" he asked. "Madame Toussaint said you had a burglary?"

Cosette shook her head, pulling back. "No... no... it wasn't that."

She told him what happened, and showed him the note. Wordlessly he sank into a seat on the couch, Cosette beside him, one of his arms still wrapped tight around her.

He looked up at her father. "We have to move her," he said. "There's plenty of room at my grandfather's- there's a room you'd like, Cosette, and there's two empty in a row. Your father will be on one side, and I'll be on the other- no one will hurt you, we can move you there first thing in the morning-"

"Isn't that a little rash?" her father said.

"Do you want to wait until someone comes in and murders her?" Marius' voice was harsh.

Valjean glared at him. "No, I'm suggesting we _think-"_

"Don't fight," Cosette begged.

They quieted. Marius turned to her. "What would you like to do, Cosette?"

"I don't want to be scared anymore. I have no idea what anyone wants with me, or how they found us. We don't have anything anyone would want! We don't even have money! Why are they after me?"

Neither had any answer for her, so Marius moved back to his original point.

"I think it's not safe to keep her here," he said. "Now that they know how to get in, how can we safely keep her here?"

"We'll move her in the morning," Valjean resigned.

The rest of the evening was spent in a sort of worried silence; Cosette refused absolutely to go back upstairs and go to sleep, so she just stayed on the couch alternately dozing and waking up against Marius, who was busy thinking. Marius and her father were talking, but she didn't mind, and slept mostly through it. They weren't saying anything important, just going over possible reasons why someone would track her. She was calmed by their voices, and comforted.

By the end of the following day, Cosette and her father were moved in. They met Monsieur Gillenormond at dinner the previous day, right after Marius proposed. His grandfather had instantly loved her, and she was welcomed whole-heartedly.

After they moved in, Monsieur Gillenormond had something of a heart attack, finding out that Cosette was endowed with almost 600,000 francs. When Marius had asked if he could marry her- and soon- Gillenormond's first question was "Did you get her pregnant?"

"No," he'd said, completely truthful.

After some very heavy persuading and compromising, ending in the boy moving back in, he'd said yes. He met the girl, and adored her, but he was calmed significantly by the money.

Cosette and her father stayed there for two weeks until the eve of the wedding- to preserve customs, Cosette agreed to sleep back in the rue plumet for the night, so she would not accidently run into Marius the next day. Valjean went with her, and took most of his belongings with him, curiously.

She thought it was unlikely for something to happen in one random night, but closed her window tight nonetheless. Her father had the idea of attaching bells to the window- if someone tried to open it, they would ring. She slept soundly that night, and found no trouble.

* * *

><p>Marius and Cosette were married in a tiny church with about twenty people in attendance- Marius' Grandfather and his aunt, his cousin Theodole (for unexplained reasons- Marius had not invited him), some of Gillenormond's great friends who would have been insulted if they were not there, Cosette's father, Courfeyrac, and some of les amis who did not mind Marius (Feuilly, Jean Prouvaire, Combeferre, Joly).<p>

"Who is that blonde idiot?" Courfeyrac asked Marius, who was getting ready in a room off the side of the church.

"My cousin, Theodole, probably. My aunt likes him."

"He's horrendous," Courfeyrac said. "He's the kind of person who smiles just the right way to make sure he shows his teeth. He's a complete idiot."

"That he is, my friend," Marius said, undoing his cravat for the fifth time and making to redo it.

"Here, let me," Courfeyrac said, and came over to help Marius. "Are you sure you want to do this? I can go get you a cab, and you can run off and be a bachelor again."

Marius laughed. "No, I'm sure. Not nervous at all."

"God be with you," Courfeyrac said, eyebrows raised.

Less than an hour later Cosette was Madame Pontmercy and the party was relocated back to Monsieur Gillenormond's house, their new home.

"Madame," Courfeyrac said to her when everyone was conversing before dinner, prostrating himself to kiss her hand. "If all brides were like you, I might be persuaded to marry!"

"You have an aversion to marriage?" Cosette asked, smiling brightly and filled with humor. She hadn't been this happy in months.

"I have selective commitment," he explained as if that were a completely normal illness many suffered through. "But if I had seen you first, instead of Marius, it might have been different between us! Ah, life's tragedies are dire sometimes, aren't they?"

"Maybe, maybe not," she said teasingly. "For if you have 'selective commitment,' and had seen me first, we would have never had the opportunity to be friends at all. Monsieur, I doubt you would even know my name!"

"And now you've changed it!" he said with mock-indignation. "How am I to keep track? Come, my lady, run away with me, won't that be grand?"

Cosette was laughing when Marius came up to her, and wrapped his arms around her.

"Sorry Courfeyrac, but you'll have to find someone else to bother- this one is mine," he said. Cosette looked up at him, her eyes sweet and happy, a smile on her face. She rose up onto her toes and he put his hand behind her neck to kiss her.

"Aww," Courfeyrac said, grabbing Combeferre as he passed, and making him look. "Watch! It's Marius' first kiss!"

Marius smiled, but did not give him the luxury of even glancing his way.

"I was beginning to worry," Courfeyrac said in a stage-whisper. "I was worrying he didn't know how to _do it_. Since he's never _done it before._ Charming that his _first time_ was on his wedding day, isn't it, Combeferre? I wonder if he's _nervous_-"

He was cut off when Marius, who was still 'ignoring him' shoved him away. Laughing, Courfeyrac departed, but not before one more comment, "I do hope he- I mean, the kiss- _lasts long enough,_ right, Combeferre?"

* * *

><p>Cosette's hands shook in Marius' as they sat on their bed. It was large, and in the nicest bedroom in the house. The party was over, everyone had gone home, including her father, who'd elected to stay in the rue plumet. She and Marius were alone and were anxiously contemplating their new freedom. She still was not sure what she was feeling. It was normal for a bride to be nervous, wasn't it?<p>

She felt as if she was going to be sick.

When Marius kissed her or held her, it was always good. She loved when he touched her, and loved that he loved her. But the thought of what she was supposed to do that night just made her stomach turn over and brought horrible memories to the surface, memories she did not want to associate with Marius _ever._ It felt cruel to think of him and that man in the same thought; Marius was good, pure good, endlessly good to her. That man was evil.

Yet imagining she and Marius together instantly made her fearful, and made her remember.

He was kissing her, and moving blessedly, gloriously slow. He had already talked to her, and she said that she trusted him, and that she was ready. But she wasn't sure she was; she just did not want to upset him, or make him sad. It was his wedding too, and why should she be able to ruin it for him? His hands were still just on her waist, and they were very careful whenever they moved across her body, as if he was trying to make his intentions very clear. He wanted to touch her, yes, but he loved her more than he wanted her. She was aware of that, but her heart was still beating in fright. She felt his beating, too, through the cotton of his shirt, his chest warm against hers; but his heart was beating in passion and desire, not fear.

A half an hour later, and they were still almost entirely dressed. His tie was off, the first few buttons of his shirt unbuttoned and it had come untucked. Cosette's hair was down, taken out of her elaborate style, and they were lying on the bed on their sides facing each other.

Marius brought his hand up to Cosette's cheek as he continued to kiss her, and felt water. He broke away and looked at her. She was weeping.

_No,_ he thought, disappointment washing through him. _Damn it!_

He'd been afraid this would happen, and he was trying to be as gentle and patient as he could when he kissed her, but here it was happening anyway. He felt the imminent dread, knowing he had to stop.

As soon as she took in that he'd noticed her tears, she broke down and cried more.

"I'm sorry!" she sobbed. "I just don't think I can do this!"

"It's alright," he soothed, somewhat awkwardly patting her on the shoulder. It was as if physical contact was the best way to comfort her, but also something to avoid, so he stuck to his patting. "You don't have to do anything."

"Are you angry with me?"

"Not at all," he said honestly. It was not as though he'd _hoped_ this would happen- he'd been praying it wouldn't- but he'd prepared himself for it to happen anyway.

It was hard not to be mad, though. Not at her, but just in general. That bastard who'd hurt her just forced her to do what he wanted, and had been selfish and evil. But he had no idea what he was causing. She did not just suffer physical pain, for here she was six weeks later, unable to even let Marius, who she loved and trusted, touch her.

It might have been beneficial to have waited a few more months, but they did not have that luxury. He would just try to help her through it, until she was ready to trust again.

"I'm sorry, _cherie,_" she said as she sat up, wiping her hands across her cheeks. "I love you so much... It's not you, not you at all."

"I know," he said. "I love you, too."

"Excuse me... I think I need a minute," she said, and got off the bed. He watched as she opened the wardrobe and took a nightgown out of it, and then went into her boudoir.

Marius got off the bed and walked over to the washbasin, splashing his face and the back of his neck with cool water. He was glad she'd left- he needed a minute alone to calm himself down. He changed into clothes for sleeping, and then sat in the chair by the fire to think.

He'd resigned himself to this possibility. That did not mean he was happy about it.

_You're only disappointed because you thought it might happen tonight,_ he reminded himself. _Any other night, and you would have no reason to be disappointed. You'd be happy to just be with her. Be grateful for what you do have. She could be in England right now._

That was true. He put a smile on his face in time for Cosette to come out, this time in a nightgown. She stood nervously across the room, not making a move toward him.

"Would you rather I... slept somewhere else?" he asked, really not wanting to.

"No, not at all," she said as if she had not considered this. "Do you want to?"

"No," he said honestly.

"As I said before, it's not you at all. I love you so much, Marius. It's _me._ I'm just not ready for this yet."

"I know," he said. "I thought you might not be. So from now on, no expectations." He lifted his hands as if to express his innocence. "You tell me when you're ready, and I'll be there. Don't worry about making me wait."

She hesitantly went back onto the bed, and then he joined her there, moving back the covers.

Cosette snuggled up to him, and then stilled, thinking it might be mean to lay so close to him after she'd just rejected him. But she also really, really wanted to sleep beside him.

"Is this alright? Should I move?" she asked regretfully.

"No," he said, wrapping his arms around her. "Don't go anywhere."

"Goodnight, Marius."

"Sleep well, Cosette."

* * *

><p><strong>More coming soon! Stay tuned!<strong>


	7. Progress, and Then

Life progressed thus. Cosette slept every night beside Marius, but nothing else happened between them. Three times in the first ten days of their marriage, she awoke to him shaking her out of a nightmare. He'd hold her and kiss her temple while she tried to escape from the horrific images of the past, haunting her in her dreams. Marius thought her nightmares must be getting worse; Cosette knew they were getting better. When she moved into the Gillenormond house, she had felt better having Marius' room on one side, her father's on the other. But she still hated sleeping alone ever since her bedroom had been broken into. She felt endlessly safer sleeping beside Marius.

After a few weeks of this, her morning sickness began. The rest of the house did not suspect yet, but she often woke feeling quite nauseated and had no appetite for anything at all unless it was dry toast. Eggs were the worst- they made her want to heave.

Cosette's father did not move in with them. He came to visit daily to see Cosette and how she was doing, but was rather mum around Marius' family, and Marius himself. He was rather off, and even Cosette noticed. She did not mention it, though, for fear of sounding as though she was complaining about him or anything of the sort. He always declined dinner invitations as well.

Marius would go out with Courfeyrac, and endure his comments about how life was better 'on the other side.' His friend, of course, had no idea that Marius was on the same side as ever.

"Let me give you a piece of advice on marriage," Courfeyrac said to Marius, casually waving for the waiter to return and take away their coffee cups.

"What do you know about marriage?" Marius asked doubtfully.

Courfeyrac gave him a snide glance. "Enough to give you the best piece of advice you will ever receive, my friend. Now hear this: Remember. Women want it just as much as men."

"Pardon?" Marius asked.

"Women want it, too," Courfeyrac said.

"Are you talking about..." Marius' eyes widened.

Courfeyrac nodded eagerly.

"They do not!" Marius said, aghast.

"Yes, they do want it. Trust me, Marius, my life changed greatly the day I found out, too. It opened up fabulous opportunities, and also helped my savings account. I didn't feel compelled to buy her flowers or even dinner."

"You are the most pathetic man I have ever met," Marius replied. "But really- they want it as much as we do?"

"Yes!" Courfeyrac said. Then he revised a bit. "Well- almost. They _definitely_ want it, but they are much better at hiding it. They think about it a lot, but not all the time, like we do."

"I don't think about it all the time," Marius said defensively.

"Yes, you do."

"No, I don't."

"Yes, you do!"

"No, I do not!"

"If you don't, you're either lying or something far worse is wrong with you. But women think about it a _lot."_

_"_Maybe the kind of women you spend your time around," Marius muttered.

"No! Even women like your wife! Yes, she looks like she's made of butter cream, but she wants it like any other woman! Unless she has some kind of aversion- I met a girl like that once." Courfeyrac's eyes widened. "Oh, my God- she doesn't have an aversion does she?"

"No!" Marius said. "She's perfectly normal!"

"Well, that's that then," Courfeyrac said in a businesslike manner. "I just thought I'd impart that knowledge onto you. I promise it will come in handy someday. Now you know not to sell your services too cheap."

"Courfeyrac," Marius said, grimacing. "Don't say it like that... it sounds disgusting."

"Well-"

"I think this conversation is over, how about you?" Marius said, taking out his wallet to pay for the coffee.

* * *

><p>One night after almost two months of their marriage, Marius was awakened when he felt something brush against his cheek. Despite the rest of the world bring asleep, Marius felt Cosette moving above him. He felt her lips on his neck and his jaw, her hands moving on his chest, stroking his body through his nightshirt. The bedroom was filled with very dim light, coming through the translucent curtains on the moonlit night. Dark curtains of her hair sheltered him from it, and he could only see her black shape above him. He felt her warm weight on top of him, her knees falling on either side of him. When he inhaled her could smell the lavender scent coming off her skin from her lotion; sweet, but not too sweet. To his utter shock, he began to feel her fingers unbuttoning his nightshirt, her soft skin brushing against his each time she undid a button.<p>

Before he could think, he reacted instinctually and put his hands behind her back, pulling her to him so she was laying completely on top of him, and kissed her. This time he was not hesitant, but neither was she. A hunger unlike anything he'd ever known was unleashed, and the only thing that made it better was to continue to kiss her, touch her.

She sighed, and he felt her fingers lacing through his hair, and his hands were on her warm back, the covers of the bed kicked away and resting somewhere near his feet.

Abruptly, he kept a hold on her and turned over, so she was laying on her back. He reached to the bedside table and lit a match, and then a candle, a small flicker of orange light crossing her face. It was not bright, but it lit just enough for him to see her hair, spread across the white, clean pillow, her face, flushed, and her eyes, looking at him with passion and intensity.

"Cosette," he said softly, kissing her again. He pulled back, and looked at her questioningly. The last thing he wanted was to get his hopes up again, only to be disappointed later.

But this time she seemed very sure. Deliberately, she took his hand and laid it on one of her breasts.

Marius blew the candle out, and leaned down to kiss her again.

* * *

><p>About a week later, Cosette and Marius had risen very early to catch a carriage to Vernon. Marius used to make a point to see his father's grave once every three or four months, but he had not been there since the winter. His life had gotten far too busy, and as the September days began to look more and more like autumn, he knew it was time to go again. He had booked a cab the previous day to pick he and Cosette up at six o'clock in the morning, to take them to where the group carriage was leaving.<p>

The fiacre driver was a very large man who did not speak a word to them as he loaded their luggage into the back. Despite the mild September day, he had a scarf wrapped around most of his face and a hat pulled down low.

Cosette got into the fiacre and promptly sat back against the comfortable velvet seat, closing her eyes. It was far too early to be going out; they had risen at five, which was brutal. Yawning, she waited for them to be ready to move. Marius got in soon after, and then the driver went about, muttering something about having to check the doors. Cosette did not so much care what was going on, she just wanted to remain sitting for as long as possible, and was already dreading the quick change of transportation when they got to the group carriage.

Finally the driver was done, and sat up at the front. The horses started to move, and Cosette felt herself drifting into sleep.

"Excuse me, sir," Marius said loudly about fifteen minutes later, leaning forward in the cab so the driver could hear them. "That was our turn, back in the last block."

The driver did not answer. "Monsieur!" Marius said, even more loudly.

Cosette opened her eyes, protesting already to the noise. They were in a different part of Paris than he father ever took her to. They did lot of charity work, but never at places like this. It was a poor neighborhood, very dirty and battered. Despite the early hour, there were people leaning against the empty shop fronts and loitering about.

"Monsieur, you're taking the wrong way!" Marius yelled. "Stop this minute!"

The man still did not answer.

"I demand you to stop this vehicle!" Marius yelled, but the man continued to ignore them.

Marius swore under his breath. "Cosette, I don't know what this man thinks he's doing, but next time we stop at an intersection, we're getting out, do you understand?"

They'd have to walk, which would be terrible, but Cosette agreed. "Whatever you say."

The man did not stop for a very long time, long enough for Cosette to watch Marius get more and more agitated, and for her to start getting upset herself. They were going very fast, and taking small side streets that she would surely want to avoid if she was walking.

Finally Marius turned and whispered to her, "We're getting out right now, alright? See that patch of grass up there? Wait till we reach it, and I'll open the door and we'll jump out."

She nodded, starting to feel very sick now.

When they were right about to the grass, Marius gripped her waist. "One," he said, and turned the knob of the fiacre, "Two... Three!"

But the door did not open. Marius pushed against it several times, throwing his bodyweight into the action, but it did not open more than a finger's width. If one looked carefully through the opening, one could see the top of a padlock holding the handle to the main car.

Marius swore again, and got up, moving to the other side, trying the other door.

"What's going on?" Cosette asked, her voice shaking. "Why is this happening?"

"I don't know!" he said angrily, kicking the door that would not move. "But we're trapped!"

* * *

><p><strong>Thoughts?<strong>


	8. Trapped in Hell

The fiacre stopped outside an abandoned-looking apartment building, on an empty street. The driver got off his post, and then unlocked the cabin. Marius put both his hands on either side of the door, so the man could not get in.

"Let us go," he said, as if it would help.

"Shut up," the man said, and reached into the cabin. Marius tried to knock him back, but the man got hold on Cosette's hair, and pulled until she cried out.

"Stop it! Let go of her!" Marius cried, and grabbed Cosette round the waist as the man kept pulling, as if to keep her in the cab. The large driver pulled one way, and Marius pulled the other.

"Look, I'm not going to let go," the man said. "So either let go, or your wife is going to get scalped."

"Just let go, Marius," Cosette whimpered, and he did.

The man dragged her out of the cabin, and then pulled a very large knife out of his coat and pointed it at Cosette's neck.

"Join us?" he asked, as if it was a pleasant invitation. Marius gulped, but followed them both into the building, which had no furniture in it. The floorboards were covered in almost an inch of dust, and creaked everywhere he walked. It was dark in there, with no lamps lit, despite the fact that the sun was now shining.

He was led up a thin stairwell, and then the man shoved Cosette into a room on the landing. Marius followed, and the man put the knife down and let Cosette go.

The door shut behind them, and Marius looked about. The room was bare, except for a bed with no sheets on it and a small, rickety table. There was a makeshift wall up halfway through, and a window on one side that let some light in. There was one other man in the room, a man Marius recognized.

"Thenardier," he growled, and stepped in front of Cosette, who had frozen, eyes wide, looking at the room that would become their jail.

"The funny thing about people like you is," Thenardier began, "I didn't even ask for you! I just needed the girl! But you came anyway, uninvited! I suppose we can find a use for you."

"What do you want from us?" Marius asked, reaching into his pocket. "Look, I can give you my wallet, alright? There should be about a hundred francs in there- it's all I have on me!"

Thenardier snatched his wallet away, but made no move to let them out. He turned his attention to Cosette, who was peering out from behind Marius' shoulder.

"Hello," he said to her, with a sly smile. "Do you remember me?"

"No," she said defiantly.

"That's just as well- you were young. But you might remember my wife, you spent more time with her. She couldn't make it today."

Cosette just looked at him, confused. Marius was watching this as well, not understanding it at all, but remembering from the Gorbeau house that Thenardier had, for some reason, recognized Cosette and wanted her father. Was that what this was about? Why hadn't he seen it before?

"The little lark," Thenardier said, and reached to touch her cheek. She flinched away.

"Don't touch her," Marius said sharply, grabbing Thenardier's arm and pushing it away.

Thenardier laughed, a whispery laugh, but otherwise ignored Marius. "You are much prettier than you were then," he said to Cosette. "Back then you were a hideous little thing. Disgusting! Sores on your body and lice in your hair, sleeping with the dog, smelling like shit and scavenging for food like a crow. You were always shivering, scared and weak and stupid... but I see that hasn't changed."

He took a step closer.

"My wife does not like you very much, Cosette," he said conversationally.

Marius gasped when the man said her name, and Cosette flinched horribly.

"See, a little bastard like you grows up with pretty clothes and money, while my little girls end up with nothing." He held his hands up, as if to show they had no money in them. "My wife worked tirelessly to put clothes on our girls' backs, while the daughter of a _whore_ becomes a- what? A Baroness, isn't that right? How did you get here, Lark? You came from nothing- you're just as much a whore as your mother-"

"_Shut up!"_ Marius yelled. "Do not talk to her that way!"

"But that's not what I'm here for," Thenardier revised. "I'm here because of the money. That's all I want. The money."

"We'll give you money," Marius said desperately. "Just let us go and we'll give you money."

"Let you go?" Thenardier said, looking surprised. "_Let you go?_ No, see, I'm not quite ready for that. You'll get the money for me, Monsieur Pontmercy. Don't worry. I'll make sure I get my money. But see, my friends need something of an _advance._"

"Look, I gave you everything I have-"

"No, not like that," he interrupted. "See, I could care less about anything other than getting the money in my pocket. I have no interest in your shivering, stupid wife here. But my friends... well they _are_ interested in her."

From behind the wall, three men stepped out. One was masked, one was rather unremarkable looking, and one was young and good-looking, who smiled triumphantly at Marius and Cosette. They all three nodded at the large, wordless one who had kidnapped the Pontmercys, who was still guarding the door. Cosette had previously been afraid, but Marius knew something was different now. She was pressed between him and the wall, and he felt her sway. She gripped his arms until it hurt, and he heard her gasp.

When he turned, her eyes were frantic, and she had tears poring down her face. She was trembling even more, and was pale as a sheet as her eyes darted about the room, looking for an escape.

"Marius," she said, scarcely louder than a breath, pointing a trembling hand at the smiling one. "It's him. He's the one who did it!"

He did not need to ask what she was talking about.

Without thinking, Marius lunged at him, and managed to get his hands around the slick man's neck, and press him against the wall. Horrifyingly, the other young man did not even flinch. He continued to grin at Marius, and even started to laugh. Hatred coursed through his veins, and he maintained his hold on the man's neck, watching as his grin turned to a slightly fearful expression, and the man's hands started to claw at Marius' face as he was being strangled.

Marius heard Cosette scream, and then he was wrenched away, the huge man twisting his arms behind his back. He saw Cosette on the other side of the room, the masked man's arm around her neck. He felt himself be forced into a chair, and his hands tied with a rough, painful rope that cut into his wrists. Then the large man tied his legs and his feet to the chair as well, rendering him completely immobile.

Marius, helpless, watched in horror as the young man took the ribbon from Cosette's hair, so it fell about her shoulders. He laced his fingers through it, smiling. Cosette stood absolutely still, her eyes shining with tears, glaring at him, but not struggling.

"It's funny, isn't it?" the man said. "You married her." He turned to Marius, who jut glared at him. "You've had her now, too."

Cosette was trembling, and so was Marius, though not from fear. He felt hatred and anger boiling in his veins as he looked at this man, proud and triumphant about the evil he was capable of. Marius realized that, under no uncertain terms, he would be capable of killing this man.

"But my favorite part," he said, laying a finger on Cosette's cheek, as she tried to flinch away. The man holding her just gripped her arms tighter, until she could not move at all. "Is that no matter how many times you have her, Monsieur Pontmercy... I will _always_ have had her first."

"You _raped _her, you bastard," Marius said with venom.

"Actually, I think your wife is the bastard here," Thenardier volunteered from the bed, where he was sitting nonchalantly. "But that's just semantics."

The young man continued to stroke Cosette, and then leaned down and kissed her neck.

"I'm not one for an audience," he informed the group. "So I'm sorry, but I don't think I'm in the mood for you today."

Cosette sighed, visibly relieved.

"Oh?" he asked, noticing this. "Didn't you enjoy it last time? I certainly did... But see, Lark... I'm not really very pleased with you right now."

She looked at him, eyes wide.

"What you did after, when you hit me... well, that _hurt._ And, you little bitch, I don't like it when you hurt me. So I'm pretty mad."

He grabbed her chin and jerked her head until she was looking at him. She fought, but he kept his hold on her.

"Don't touch me, you filthy-"

"Shut up!" he said, and then reared his hand back, hitting her on the cheek with a force that sent her stumbling backwards. The man holding her let go, and she tumbled to the floor.

Marius was yelling, but he didn't know what he was saying. Cosette lay on the floor, her hands to her cheek, sobbing. He strained against the ropes holding him, and they just cut more into his skin.

"You, too! Shut up!" the young man said, and the large man took his hand back and was about to hit him.

"No!" Thenardier said, catching the brute's hand. "Gueulemer, don't touch him! If he bruises, he's not use to us. I've thought of a way to use him, but we need to keep him presentable. Just him up with this."

He produced a rag from his pocket, which was shoved into Marius' mouth, until he gagged. Now unable to make any noise except inarticulate grunts, he watched as the masked man picked Cosette up by the back of her dress.

"I said I am not interested in theatrics," the young man said. "But my friend here is. His name is Claquesous, and he can hardly ever deny an audience."

Cosette froze, and then Claquesous started tearing at the back of her dress. She reacted like a crazed animal. She elbowed him in the stomach and stomped on the soles of his feet, thrashing out of his grip and screaming. Gueulemer ran forward and clasped his hand over her mouth, but then snatched his hand back a minute later, staggering backwards.

"Bitch!" he grunted, clutching his bloody fingers. She'd managed, amazingly, to overpower them for just enough time to break through from the group. She ran towards the door, and got her hands on the knob right when Gueulemer picked her up from round the waist and threw her roughly back into the room, until she fell on the dusty floor again.

"Montparnasse," Thenardier said once they wrenched Cosette off the floor again, and held her tightly so she could not move. "You will keep her quiet, or I will put a stop to this. You ruined this for us last time because you wanted to play before you finished your work. We're here for the _money,_ remember, you rat?"

"I remember," the young man said, grinning in a way that made Marius want to stab him in the eyes. "But who says we can't have some _fun_ first?"

Marius thrashed against the ropes again, while the chair rocked back and forth. He made no progress- the knots were tight and unforgiving. Cosette was sobbing now, unrestrained cries wrenching themselves from her body.

He did manage to work, with his lips and his tongue, to get the gag out of his mouth. No one was paying any attention to him. The two- Claquesous, the masked man, and Montparnasse- were interested in Cosette. Gueulemer was obviously supposed to be paying attention to Marius, but Marius grasped that he was both dumb as a board and valued least in the group. Thenardier was looking through Marius' wallet, not interested in Cosette at all. The other one was outside the room, guarding the door.

Cosette's two attackers had torn through the buttons on Cosette's dress when Marius was free to speak. She was hiccupping now, her face completely soaked with tears, her eyes red. She strained, but Montparnasse had her arms and the other forced her down onto the bed.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Marius said finally.

They looked up at him, surprised he had gotten the gag from his mouth.

"Can't you see what you are _doing?_" he continued. "Don't you _care_?"

"Does it look like we care a shit about what we're doing?" Claquesous said.

"No, but you came here for money, not my wife," he said. "Let me help you. Let me out, and I'll get the money."

They just laughed.

"Didn't either of you have a mother? A sister? A wife, a daughter? _Anyone_? What if someone did this to them?"

Marius realized halfway through this statement that human compassion was probably not the way to get through to these animals, so he changed his tactic.

"If you hurt her any more, you can't use me. I know what you want to do."

Thenardier's interest was peaked. "Oh? And what is that?"

"You want me to close my account," he said, putting two-and-two together, "And give the check to you. How else could I withdraw all my money at once?"

Thenardier looked at him steadily, and Marius realized he had guessed right.

"And you are keeping me looking clean so you can take me to the bank. I need to sign the papers, I need to talk to the bankers and be a face they know so they'll hand over the money. It doesn't take a genius to understand."

"Enlighten me on how you are in a position to barter," Thenardier said. Before Marius could answer, he turned and kicked Montparnasse, who was trying to undo Cosette's corset. She was protesting and making noise, and so Thenardier got the two men off of her so he could think in peace.

Marius saw this, and took it as a small victory. "Well, you need my signature. I won't sign a damned thing if you hurt her."

"Well, we'll _kill_ you if you don't do what we want."

"Not in the middle of the bank, you won't," Marius said, calling their bluff. "Even you could not be that stupid. Let me out so I can help you."

"Not just yet," Thenardier said.

Cosette had taken advantage of the fact that they had let her alone and stood up, going to stand on the far end of the room, as far away from Thenardier's gang as she could.

"We'll let you out, and you'll go into the bank," Thenardier continued. "Close your account, and ask for a cashier's check. Endorse it. Bring it back to us, and then we won't need you anymore."

"And Cosette?" Marius asked.

"We'll have your money, won't we?" Thenardier said innocently. "We won't need her either."

"I'll go," Marius said. "But she comes with me."

"See, that does not work," Thenardier said. "Look at her!"

Marius looked. Cosette, aside from the fact that she was not wearing her dress (which was torn), looked awful. Her wrists had abrasions on them from Claquesous' grip, and she already had a large bruise forming on her cheek, and one on her elbow from where she landed on the floor.

"She can come with me, and stay in the carriage. I'm not leaving her here."

"_You will do as we say,_" Thenardier growled. "Or we'll kill you both."

"If you harm her," Marius countered. "Or me, I will rip the check up into a hundred pieces."

This was just about the only thing that touched Thenardier. "If you've closed your account and are using a cashier's check, and you rip it... the money will all be gone! You can't ever get it back!"

"Not a sou," Marius said calmly. "No, I won't. But neither will you."

"That's half a million francs, gone!"

Marius glared at him, and then quoted the men from before. "Does it look like I care a shit about the money? No! Now let me up!"

Thenardier looked at him for a long time, and then finally cut his bindings. He stood, and Cosette ran up to him. Marius touched her bruised cheek lightly, before they were interrupted.

"She can't come," Thenardier said.

"Why not?"

"We need a guarantee that you'll come back," he said, as if sweetly.

"Bring one of your men with us," Marius bargained.

"Oh, I will, but she stays here. You will not hand the check to anyone but myself- not even one of these men." He looked about at his cronies with a kind of hatred. Marius' stomach turned, and he realized that there were no friends among thieves. "Now I won't be going with you. I can't set foot in a bank, you understand. Montparnasse will go with you into the bank."

"Claquesous, too then," Marius said, looking at the other man who'd tried to hurt Cosette. It was not that he _trusted_ Thenardier, but he'd rather leave Cosette with him and the large, stupid man than the two more threatening men. Thenardier seemed to be telling the truth, at least about one thing; he had very little interest in harming Cosette. He only wanted the money.

"He can't go in!" Thenardier said.

"He comes with me," Marius bartered. "They both come with me. Montparnasse comes in, Claquesous stays outside. Or you don't get my signature."

"Fine," Thenardier spat, and then turned to the two who were still near the bed, looking disappointed. "Did you hear? Go!"

"We're going," Montparnasse grumbled, straightening his jacket.

Cosette looked at Marius, panicked, but he had no help for her. Wordlessly, he pressed her to him and kissed her, before turning back to Thenardier.

"Remember what I said," he said with more menace than Cosette had ever heard in his voice. "If anyone so much as lays another finger on her, you won't get your money. And you can try to kill me, but I promise you that if you hurt her I will do everything in my power to kill you."

"Fine!" Thenardier said. "Just go, and she'll be just fine when you get back, alright? Go!"

Marius, with one last look at Cosette, turned and made his way out, with one of Thenardier's thieves on either side of him.

* * *

><p><strong>Please review this chapter! Please please please!<strong>

**More coming soon.**


	9. Blood

It was hard for Marius to remain calm. Montparnasse had made a point to show him the sharp knife he carried on his person, which made Marius break out into a cold sweat and made his breathing uneasy.

Montparnasse sat leisurely, examining his finger nails. He whispered taunting remarks to Marius with the kind of smile one has when they know they have the upper hand.

"Does she always whimper like that when she's being fucked?" he asked, smirking and looking disinterested. "She did with me, anyway..."

Marius bit his tongue, and swallowed his pride for the journey to the bank. His hands itched to wrap themselves around his neck, and to watch as the life left his eyes... but he sat calmly, knowing that if he so much as twitched in Montparnasse's direction, there would be a knife in his chest, and an order for Cosette's murder.

"Remember," Montparnasse said, winking when they got out of the carriage. He pulled his coat back just enough for Marius to see the glint of metal. When he walked into the bank, he was unsteady.

"One last thing," Marius said to the man behind the desk a few minutes later, tucking the check away into his jacket a few minutes later after he'd agreed to close the account. "Can you make a note not to close the account until the end of the day tomorrow?"

"You won't be able to cash the check until the account is closed," the man said, removing his glasses and squinting at Marius.

"I know," he said with a smile. He was actually calm now- this was the part of the plan he had thought of. Since no one would accost him in the middle of a bank, he had freedom to do whatever he needed.

"Tomorrow is Saturday," the man said. "You won't be able to cash the check until Monday."

"I'm well aware," Marius said, smiling. He looked at Montparnasse, who was sitting beside him and posing as his brother. He smiled, triumphant, and watched Montparnasse grow very upset. "I won't be needing it until then, and I want to go over my assets some time before then. Please, do not close the account until tomorrow at the end of the day."

"Consider it done," the man said. "Thank you for your business, Monsieur Pontmercy. If you ever wish to reestablish you account here, we would be more than glad to work with you again."

"Thank _you_," Marius said, shaking the man's hand as he stood up.

* * *

><p>"What the hell was that about?" Montparnasse said as soon as they were in the carriage on their way back. Claquesous' interest was peaked. "Even in a few days, we'll still get the money! What are you trying to buy?"<p>

"Time," Marius answered simply. The two glowered at him, and he felt intimidated. These two, he knew, would not hesitate to kill him.

If he thought he could kill them both, he would not hesitate to, either. But he was unarmed and outnumbered, and so he thought it wise to play along, at least for the time being.

They returned to the garret, and he found Thenardier had kept his promise. When the door opened, Cosette was sitting by herself in the corner, and she leapt up when Marius walked into the room.

"Where is the check?" Thenardier asked.

Marius ignored him. He took Cosette's hand and pulled her close to him. "Did anyone hurt you? Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," she said, holding tight onto his lapels. "They left me alone. Are you alright?"

"I'm well enough," he said, and then turned to Thenardier. "I have the check."

"Tell him what you did with it," Montparnasse spat.

Marius was beginning to wonder if that had really been the best idea. Sure, he could save the money, but in the end if he and Cosette were dead, who cared about the money? Keeping his arm wrapped around Cosette, he told Thenardier, who just stared at him for a long time.

Finally, he broke the silence. "Monsieur Pontmercy, do you realize you just killed yourself?"

Cosette cried out.

"Hush," Marius said softly, worried that if any kind of uproar began, more of the torture would begin. He tightened his grip around her.

"You do know I can't let you go now, don't you?" Thenardier said. "First things first: give me the check."

Marius handed it over wordlessly.

"Good. But you can't go free now. If you leave, then what will you do? You'll go to the bank, and tell them to reopen your account, since you didn't cash the check. You'll tell them to cancel it. Then I won't get my money, and that just won't do. I have two choices. I can keep you with me until Monday, which I have no patience for. Or I can kill you."

Cosette gasped, and put her hands over her mouth.

"I think we both know the choice I'm going to make. But first..." he nodded at Gueulemer.

Marius felt a huge blow to the middle of his back, and suddenly he was on the floor. He tried to get up, and then felt a powerful kick on his back again. He clenched his teeth together in pain, the wind knocked out of him. _Don't show your pain,_ he told himself but it became difficult when the other men joined in.

Cosette was pleading for them to stop, but he wished she wouldn't; it would only be a matter of time before one of them got sick of her cries and began to hurt her, too.

He managed to get himself back onto his feet, but Gueulemer punched him squarely in the jaw, knocking him backwards.

It was five on one; the man guarding the door had left his post and joined in on the beating.

A sharp pain cut through all the blunt blows, and his sleeve was torn. Red soaked through the white cotton, and he watched as if from another vantage point than hit own, as Montparnasse thrashed at him with his knife. He did not deliver a stab to kill, just cutting his arms and chest. It was obvious they were just enjoying themselves; they would kill him later.

Marius let out a cry and managed to get a hold on Montparnasse's arm and twist it, until he dropped the knife. Then, he threw himself on the man, and dug his fingers and nails into the man's neck as he attempted, once again, to strangle Cosette's rapist and the man who was going to murder him.

Again, his attack was cut short when he was thrown to the other side of the room. Blows were dealt to him, and his knees buckled, and he slumped against the wall. Gueulemer, by far the strongest, threw his fist into Marius' stomach, his aim true. Marius collapsed to the ground, unable to breath, and passed over a threshold where he could no longer fight. Halfheartedly, he covered his face to protect his eyes, but he knew it was pointless. If he was going to die, what did his eyes matter for?

Cosette jumped onto Gueulemer's back, trying to deter him, but he just shrugged her off as if she were a bothersome fly. She tried to scratch and kick her way into the thick of the fight, but found no opening. Finally, the gang gave up on Marius and left him there, bleeding and bruised.

Cosette fell to her knees beside Marius, her hands shaking horribly and she tried to touch him without hurting him.

"Oh, my love," she whispered tearfully. "Marius, can you hear me?"

"Yes," he said, and looked up, meeting her blue eyes with his brown ones. He looked at her for a long time, their gaze containing more than words could say, as they knew they were defeated.

"We'll be back in an hour or so," Thenardier said. Marius and Cosette looked up, surprised. "Oh, don't bother trying to escape. I'll have someone outside the door, and on the street outside the window."

He grinned at them both, who looked panicked and sick. "Don't worry, Lark," he said. "We'll get to you, too. My wife is dead, you see, but I haven't forgotten how much she hated you. My daughters, too... you won everything, you little slut, and they got nothing! On my wife's behalf, I'll be _sure_ to kill you, too.

"But I need to take care of something first. See you soon," he said, smiling. Then, the group left them and they were alone in the room.

Cosette put her arm around Marius and got him to lean on her, and she managed to direct him onto the bed. Then she picked up her torn dress from the floor and started to tear strips of the skirt up, and did her best to blot the blood from his arms and tie off the wounds.

"There's no water," she said, scared but ever practical. "If we had water this would be much easier."

After she'd done her best to dress his wounds, she lay him down on the bed. She sat with her back to the headboard, and he lay his head in her lap. It was heavy and warm and alive, and she started to cry when she realized that it might be the last time she would ever be with him.

"We're going to die, aren't we?" she sobbed.

He looked up at her, his eyes sad and resigned. "I think so."

She nodded, accepting it. "Well at least we have this time together. If we have to die, at least I can spend my last few hours with you."

That they did. They lay together, talking a little, but mostly laying silently, accepting their fate and not fighting it. Cosette got up only once to look out the window- it was a straight drop down, with nothing to hold on to. There were no sheets on the bed, so no possibility to create a rope either. And, like Thenardier promised, there was Gueulemer, waiting for them at the bottom. Even if they escaped, they would not get very far.

Once she realized this, she lay back down on the bed with Marius and they held each other. They were both praying, and she hoped that her father would not be too heartbroken. Her death would have the possibility to ruin his life, she knew, and she prayed it would not kill him. They were peaceful, an discussed God and heaven and death and hell, and hoped they would see each other again.

"If you can escape," Marius said to her after some thought. "Run. I think they're going to take me first. If there's even a small possibility you can get away, run to your father. If I'm gone, don't wait for them to kill you, too. I want to at least have some hope that you'll get away. Do you promise you'll try?"

"I promise," she said, but had no idea how that would be possible. She could no more fight off those five men than she could learn to love them. But she could certainly try, couldn't she? She had nothing left to lose.

She pressed herself to Marius, and touched his thick, dark hair, as if she wanted to memorize how it felt. She kissed him, and buried her face against his neck, inhaling the scent of his skin and trying to mark how it felt to have him lying against her.

_Crack!_

They both jumped wildly, and the door crashed open. Thenardier and his gang entered then.

"How sweet," Thenardier growled, looking at them lying together on the bed. "Well, that's enough of that... let's get this over with."

Gueulemer thundered forward. Marius tried to stand by himself, wanting at least some dignity and as walked to his death, but they deprived him of even that. Gueulemer dragged Marius to his feet by the collar of his coat and shoved him in the direction of the door.

"No!" Cosette cried, scrambling to her feet and putting herself between them and the door, trying to stop him from leaving to kill Marius.

"Well we're not going to kill him in here," Thenardier said. "I don't want his blood on the floor," he joked. It was pointless; Marius' blood was already staining the floor from the beating.

Gueulemer held Marius up by gripping him tightly on his upper arm, which was particularly painful due to the slices Montparnasse had inflicted.

_"Don't kill him!"_ she begged, hysterical now, sobbing. "Just let him go! You can have the money! We won't go to the bank, we won't do anything! Just let him go!"

"I'm not going to do that," Thenardier said. "Lark, you are tiring me. Now, unless you want to go with Gueulemer and watch, sit down and shut up."

"No!" Cosette cried again, but knew it was useless. Marius was going to die, and then these men were going to rape her again, and then they would surely kill her. It would not help to fight, so she decided on her last effort. She broke away from the group and ran up to Marius. She kissed him passionately, and embraced him one last time. "I love you," she told him.

"I love you, too," he said, resigning himself as well to what was coming. "I'm sorry I couldn't save you."

She kissed him again. "Oh, you did, Marius. You did."

Before he could reply, Gueulemer was tugging him out of the garret. Before the door closed, he heard Cosette scream one more time, and watched as Montparnasse wrapped his arm around her waist, tugging her towards the bed.

* * *

><p><strong>More soon!<strong>


	10. Torture

Marius followed Gueulemer downstairs, feeling absolutely sick. He was walking to his death. He felt like he was a prisoner on an executioner's mound, waiting for the axe or the guillotine. It was disgusting.

But then he realized who he was walking with- the stupid one. He, Marius, was a lawyer. Albeit an out of practice one, but a lawyer nonetheless, someone paid to argue their way out of bad situations. He also remembered reading somewhere that if you have an enemy, to try to do something to make your enemy see you as a human. So he began to talk.

"Oh, God, my Grandfather does not even know where I am!"

Gueulemer ignored him, but Marius continued as they went down the stairs.

"He's almost a hundred. He'll be horrified when I never come home. He needs someone to take care of him, you see. And Cosette was pregnant and everything-"

"What?" Gueulemer grunted.

"Cosette, my wife? Upstairs? She's pregnant. Or I suppose until one of those men kills her, which they'll undoubtedly do after they kill me. Horrible thing, isn't it? Makes me sick to think of killing her, but really- a baby is even worse. It's not the baby's fault, is it?"

Gueulemer did not answer, just shrugged.

"Anyway, I suppose you've got the worst job here, don't you?" Marius continued. He was as nervous as he had ever been, and still felt as though he was going to heave. With every step he took, he was closer to his death. They were out the door now, and turning into a narrow alleyway. Marius doubled his efforts.

"Huh?"

"I mean, do you ever get to participate, or do they just use you for your strength?" Marius asked.

Gueulemer looked at him, his blank, stupid eyes confused.

"Do you ever get much of a share in the profits?"

"That's not your business-"

"I would just think that, since you do all the work, you deserve more," Marius said, noting the irony of him telling his kidnapper and potential murderer that he deserved more rewards for his 'efforts.' "But that's Thenardier, isn't it? A crook!"

"I never do get paid much," Gueulemer said to himself.

"And then you'll be the one who's framed for my death," Marius sighed, as if he felt bad about it.

"Huh?"

"Well, think about it!" Marius said, glad he seemed to have a niche to begin his argument. "I just closed my account and withdrew all my money- somewhat odd, since I only acquired that money a few months ago. Do you agree?"

Gueulemer, who for all his efforts as a thief had never really had much to do with money, did not understand, but continued to let Marius talk.

"Then, I go missing. It's a matter of time before they find my body, and Cosette's. They'll know we were murdered, and then it will be only a day or so that the police find out that my account was emptied the day of the murder. Then they'll track down Patron-Minette-"

"How do you-?"

"Oh, I know about your gang!" Marius said. "I've heard all about you. And so have the police! They'll know it was you, especially when they see how it was done- the kidnap, the potential for ransom... Well that's what the plan was, wasn't it? Kidnap Cosette for ransom, but then Montparnasse raped her instead? That was the plan? Then we got married, and you couldn't sneak up on her, so you had to change your plans..."

Gueulemer seemed to have forgotten his orders, and the huge knife in his pocket. He was watching Marius make these connections in a kind of awe.

"Anyway, they'll know why we were murdered. Thenardier isn't exactly _loyal,_ is he? And the other men will just want to save their own skins. If you killed me, and kidnapped us, they'll tell that to the police. You'll be the one with the death sentence."

"If we get caught," Gueulemer leered.

"True, true," Marius said. "But it's only a matter of time, isn't it? You can only avoid the police so many times? What if Thenardier gets sick of you? He'll just turn you in!"

Gueulemer suddenly looked frightened, and Marius pressed his advantage.

"You've seen him getting tired of you, haven't you, Gueulemer? You know he wants to get rid of you. Here," Marius said, looking behind him. "You can get rid of him first! You can protect yourself! What's more important than saving your own skin, huh?"

Gueulemer shrugged, very interested.

"Do you want to be the one getting executed, watching as they walk free?" Marius knew the likelihood of Thenardier walking free, once in police custody, was nil, but he pressed on nonetheless. "How would that feel? Is that what you deserve? No. Go somewhere where you can make money, Gueulemer, and be paid for your work. Thenardier will never treat you fairly. Don't wait until you're behind bars!"

"I..." he said, looking interested now.

"Get out of here while you can, and you won't be framed. Let me go, and I promise I won't tell the police about you. You have my word- and I have never broken my word," Marius promised, offering his hand.

Gueulemer stared, and realized he was about to be given a deal, a real agreement, in a manner other than something faintly cloak-and-dagger. He looked into Marius' eyes, which were surrounded by bruised skin. He was reminded of the beating.

"You will turn me in!" he said distrustfully. "I punched you!"

"I will not break my word," Marius promised. "If you let me go, I promise I will not turn you in. Letting me go will undo anything you did to me or my wife. Please, I am begging you," Marius asked, his eyes beseeching. "Turn yourself around. Run away from here. _Let me go._"

"If I leave Thenardier, he'll never take me back," he said as if to himself.

Marius smiled kindly, though it took a lot of strength for him to do so. "Do you want to be back? And wouldn't it be satisfying to see Thenardier reach his downfall, while you go free and can pursue success? Watch him pay the piper, while you are alive and well?"

"Yes," Gueulemer agreed."

"Then let me go. Let me go, and you can be free, too."

Gueulemer stepped away from Marius, giving him a solid space to get away.

Marius started to breath again.

"Thank you- one last thing," he said. "Where are we? I know you must know- you drove the fiacre here."

Gueulemer gave him a street name, and a number. Marius nodded, and then turned and ran as fast as he could out of the alley, turned a corner, and was out of reach of Gueulemer before the murderer could change his mind.

* * *

><p>Marius did not make it far before he had to stop. The world was spinning around him, and his legs were weak. He wheezed when he breathed, and felt pressure when he inhaled, because of the blows to his back and his ribs. He would be covered in black bruises in a matter of hours, if he wasn't already. He was still bleeding, and was appalled at the lack of human compassion he encountered. Everywhere he turned, he received nothing but horrified looks. People crossed the street when they saw him, rather than offer assistance.<p>

He asked twelve people what the nearest main street was before he got an answer. He weighed his options carefully- the police were too far, he could not get there without collapsing. His grandfather's house was also out of the way, and he knew only one other place to go.

He began to run once again toward the rue plumet. His lungs burned, and his legs shook with muscle fatigue, despite running only half a block. He tasted blood in his mouth from when he'd been punched, and the world began to spin. The cobblestones were growing ever closer, until he found himself on his hands and knees, gasping for breath on the pavement.

The world was blacking in and out, and yet he could not get any kind of bearings without proper breath. He needed water, and he needed rest. But he did not have time for that! What if Gueulemer changed his mind and went upstairs, and told Thenardier Marius had gotten away?

He would either murder Cosette right then, or take the whole group to another location, where he would never find them again.

"Monsieur!" a voice called, and he heard the sound of hard shoes clapping the ground. "_Monsieur! _Are you alright?"

Marius looked up to see the very concerned face of a man in his late thirties, with a son who looked about fourteen trailing behind. The man was in plain, workers' clothing. He and his son were obviously leaving work together. The man helped Marius to his feet.

"You need to go to the hospital," the man said, and then turned to his son. "Hail a cab-"

"No, no, please," Marius begged, trying to catch his breath. "I need the _police._ My wife and I were kidnapped, and they were going to murder me- I only just got away but they still have her-"

"Oh, dear Lord," the man said, taking a step back and going white.

"Please Monsieur, I can't go to the doctor yet. Can you or your son get the police? Here-" he reached into his pocket for the pad of paper he kept, and a pencil. He wrote down the address of the garret. "That's where they are- oh, Lord, if they're still there- please, Monsieur, it's the only thing that might save her in time!"

"Of course," he said, nodding anxiously. "Luc? Come on, we'll never get there if we stand still, let's go."

Marius only watched them go for a minute, and prayed they would follow through. Then he continued his journey to Cosette's father's house.

* * *

><p>"I despise you," Cosette said with venom to Montparnasse as he ripped the laces off her corset with his knife. "Your soul must be black, and rotting- no one has ever loved you, have they? I'm not surprised..."<p>

"Shut up," he said sharply.

"Why should I?" she continued. "No one ever loved you. You are trying to make up for it now, but you won't this way. You're going to go to Hell and suffer for eternity, because of these hours you made me suffer here."

Bored, he just slapped her. She cried out, and Thenardier growled.

He looked up from where he was sitting by the window, examining the check. "If you don't _shut her up_ I will throw you all out right now! Do you want to get caught?"

Montparnasse leered at Thenardier. "Like you could do that- we're the once who've done all your dirty work!"

"I can do whatever in hell I want," Thenardier snapped back. "You have to listen to me."

"You know, old man, we don't have to do anything!" Montparnasse thundered, standing up and imposing himself over Thenardier. Cosette gasped as they all four started to yell at each other, and pushed each other around, threatening to do things she barely even understood.

She'd never seen a fight like this before, and it frightened her almost more than anything she'd seen yet. Her wrists were tied painfully behind her back securing her to the bed, and through the yelling she tried as hard as she could to wiggle her way out of the ropes. No luck, so she could not even take advantage of their distraction.

But she didn't even want to fight anymore. She listened halfheartedly, but heard nothing from the street beneath them, and she wondered if Marius was already dead. Her eyes, which were burning now with the amount of tears that had been shed, continued to leak. Marius was gone, she knew it.

Thenardier stopped the fighting, and asked where Gueulemer was- no one knew. Cosette felt a flutter of hope.

"He's probably back at his post outside," Montparnasse said. "I told him to keep watch afterwards... and we shouldn't even be expecting him back yet. He has to deal with the body."

Cosette's blood ran cold. _The body._ Marius really was dead. She would never hear him say her name again, never sit next to him, never go through the rue plumet with him again. She wouldn't see him smile, or look into his brown eyes that made her heart thud, or walk beside them when they were old. They would never have children, never have a family, never be 'The Pontmercys.' She would most likely not even see his grave, because he would not have a grave. No one would know what happened to him, no one but her.

Montparnasse and Claquesous seemed to forget their fight with Thenardier, and turned back to her.

"Hey beautiful," Claquesous said, laughing as if it was hysterical. "Not looking so beautiful now, I see."

Montparnasse roared. Cosette did not care whatsoever how she looked, though she was sure it was ghastly. He reached his hand between her legs, and she attempted to kick him, but he just sliced her foot with his knife.

She screamed in pain, and would have collapsed into her sobs if the way they had tied her allowed that freedom.

"Why don't you just kill me now?" she begged. She'd promised Marius to fight, but he didn't understand... there was no way to fight out of this! They were going to kill her, and she did not want to live through another minute of this torture. "You don't need me! You killed my husband, you have the money... just kill me and get it over with!"

"We'll kill you," Thenardier spoke up. "I promised you that. But not until Monday."

"Monday?" Cosette gasped, her eyes wide with terror. "It's _Friday._"

"Yes, and we won't be able to cash our check until Monday. We need you as insurance... in case something goes wrong, that old man- the really old one, Gillenormond, who owns the house- we might need his assistance into the account. Your dear husband was still young. His guardian still has access to his account."

Cosette was not entirely sure what this meant, except that she would not be set free.

"Then why did you kill him?" she spat. "_Why?"_

"He was unnecessary... and boring," Thenardier said with a smile. Cosette thrashed, truly hating this man with every fiber in her being. He killed Marius for no reason at all!

"You _murderer!_ You bastard!" she screamed.

"I thought we established that _you_ are the bastard here."

Cosette did not know what the word meant, only that she'd heard Marius use it, and it was derogatory. She had never heard Marius swear, so she reasoned that if he had, it had been for a good reason and was a good word to use. She did not answer Thenardier.

"Besides," Montparnasse said. "We kept you around because you're _so much more fun._ See, we have endless entertainment until Monday!"

Grinning, he grabbed her breasts painfully, until she cried out.

"See?" he said, smiling. "Funny... no one to defend you now! You're all alone."

Triumphantly, he began to rip at her chemise. Cosette had only been with Marius twice- that first night a week ago, and then once again three nights ago. In the next hour, the amount of times she had been raped in her lifetime eclipsed the times she had been with Marius.

* * *

><p>"Open up!" he yelled, pounding his bloody fist on the door. "<em>Fauchelevent! Father!"<em> he yelled, but nothing worked.

Finally he remembered something- Cosette's father used to sleep in the cottage in the back. Why hadn't he remembered? Swearing at the lost time due to his stupidity, Marius ran to the garden gate, wrenched the broken bar aside, and pounded through the flowers and around the back of the house until he reached the cottage.

"_Father!"_ he yelled, pounding on the door. The world was swaying again, and he had to lean on the doorframe while he knocked.

The door swung open a moment after, and he saw Cosette's father's face.

Monsieur Fauchelevent looked shocked and confused when he saw the man at his door- why was a bruised, bloody man screaming outside his door? But then recognition dawned on his face.

"Marius!" he said, putting his book down. "Oh, my Lord, what happened to you? Come inside, son, I'll get you some bandages-"

"No!" Marius protested. "No, please, listen! You need to come with me."

He pulled on Cosette's father's hand.

"What is going on?"

"I'll explain on the way- can we get a carriage, I can't walk anymore, and it will be faster!"

They were installed in a fiacre a minute later, after Marius stopped someone else on the street and beseeched them to go to the police, just in the case the other man and his son did not make it there in time. Once the fiacre was moving, Marius began telling Cosette's father what happened.

"...So I gave them the check, but then they started to beat me, and they told me they were going to kill me. I went down and managed to convince the man to let me go, and so I ran here but they still have her! They still have Cosette! Montparnasse and Claquesous and the ones who will hurt her! I heard her screaming before they even shut the door behind me! Oh, my God- what if they've killed her already? What time is it? Oh, damn it I don't even know what time it was when I left her, but it must have been at least an hour. God knows what they could do to her in an hour-"

"Calm down," Monsieur Fauchelevent said, though he was white as a sheet and looking more frightened than Marius had ever seen him. "We don't know anything yet."

This did not help; Marius could not imagine this man being frightened. He'd been scared of Marius' presence in Cosette's life, yes, but that was natural for a protective father. This fear that Marius saw in Monsieur Fauchelevent's eyes was panic, as if he knew something horrible was happening. This man seemed so strong, so invincible, that his fear was perhaps the most frightening thing Marius had seen all day.

Agonizingly slow, the fiacre rolled on, until at last they were outside the garret.

"This is it," Marius said. His adrenaline was pumping through his body, and his time sitting in the fiacre had done some good. When he stood, the world did not spin.

They went inside, and began ascending the stairs.

* * *

><p><strong>More soon! FYI the rating was changed because of these last few chapters.<strong>

**Also, I changed my pen name to match my name on abaisse.**

**Thanks for reading!**


	11. Deux ex Machina

They heard her screams as soon as they were halfway up the stairs. At first, they were terrifying, but then it occurred to both Marius and Valjean that it could have been worse.

She was alive.

"_Stop it!"_ she yelled, "_No, please-_"

Her yell turned into a high-pitched scream of agony, which dissolved into sobs. Marius ran forward toward the door, but Valjean caught him.

"Wait," he whispered. "Let me go first. You go straight to Cosette, don't spend any time with the others in there-"

"But-" Marius started to argue, but Valjean stopped him.

"No, I will deal with them."

It was not fair; he wanted to injure those men, make them pay for what they had done to Cosette, and for what they had done to him.

"No one else is going to get hurt," Valjean said sternly. "Not even them."

Marius nodded, but was still regretful.

Once he had Marius' agreement, Valjean tried the door very quietly, but it was locked.

Then Marius saw him do something purely, awe-inspiringly amazing. The old man straightened up, took in a deep breath, and took several steps back. After a moment of contemplation, Cosette's white-haired father ran forward with a force akin to nothing man-made that Marius had ever seen. He resembled something powerful as lightening, frightening as thunder. And then with one, powerful move, he kicked the door down.

It fell heavily on one of the members of Patron Minette, and he fell to the floor. The rushed inside, stepping awkwardly over the door, and Cosette screamed again- but this time with shock and joy.

Her wrists were tied and she was covered in sweat, her face tearful. She was on the bed, her chemise torn, smears of blood on the cotton and on her cheeks and arms. Her hair was hanging around her face, wet with that panic-driven sweat that was still covering Marius.

"You're alive!" she yelled, her voice hoarse from screaming, but sweet and joyful. She was sobbing through her relief, her terror subsiding. "_You're alive_!"

Marius ran to the bed and wrapped his arms around her, crushing her to him and kissing all over her bruised face, which was cut and scarred from Montparnasse's knife. "Yes, yes, my love, I'm alive and so are you and everything is going to be fine- the police are on their way and we're going home. You're going to be fine. Everything is alright now."

He looked about- the guardsman was on the floor, having been knocked out by the door. Monsieur Fauchelevent had overpowered Montparnasse and taken his knife away, and using the rope that was tied Marius to the chair, tied he and Claquesous together. He stood, glaring at Thenardier, who was backed into a corner, looking terrified. Marius gave a spiteful cruel laugh. Thenardier acted so powerful, like he was the unbeatable, the alpha. But here he was, cowering like a frightened puppy. It served him right.

Marius snatched Montparnasse's knife off the floor, and used it to cut Cosette's bindings. He gasped when he saw her hands, which were bloody. Her fingernails were red and torn, and the tips of her fingers were cut.

"Oh, God, what happened to you?"

"Montparnasse," Cosette said. "He was trying to get me to... do things. When I wouldn't, he would stick his knife under my fingernails... that was why I was screaming."

Once her hands were free, she threw her arms around Marius neck and embraced him.

"I thought they killed you," she whispered with joy, still sobbing. "But you're here."

Marius kissed her, and she kissed him back, and he felt a potent heartbeat inside his chest, reminding him that they would survive, and they would get out of that hell. He was lost in the moment, feeling her lips moving and her body pressed against his, lost and happy and more relieved than he'd ever felt. It was not until Cosette's father shook his shoulder and started to speak that they broke apart.

"Let's get out of here," Monsieur Fauchelevent said. Marius helped Cosette off the bed, and then took his jacket off and gave it to her. They were halfway out the door when Cosette turned.

"Wait," she said to them both, and looked back at Thenardier, who was tied to the chair that had held Marius captive earlier. "I don't remember what you did to me as a child," she said, glaring at him. "So you might think you ruined my childhood, but you didn't. You didn't ruin anything for me."

She turned to Montparnasse. "Neither did you. What you all will never understand is that when you try to hurt someone else, in the end you only help them grow stronger. You didn't take anything away from me. Though you tried to hurt me, it's you who will have to spend the rest of your lives paying for this, in jail. I hope you enjoy it."

She turned back to Marius and her father. "Let's go."

Her legs were weak, because she had been beaten after Marius left. Her father saw her sway when they got to the stairs, and he scooped her up and carried her down to the carriage. He'd paid the driver extra to wait for them to return. Marius followed them, but the world started to spin again as he got back the stairs. He stopped, a hand on the doorframe, steadying himself. Monsieur Fauchelevent put Cosette in the carriage, and then look around for Marius, who couldn't move his legs, or feel them. It was only going to be a minute or two before he blacked out... he saw splotches of black in his vision, and could feel his bruises and cuts tenfold, all over his body.

The next thing he felt was Cosette's father take his arm and support him in a fatherly manner, carrying most of his weight to the carriage. They were going home.

They were loaded in, and had just started leaving with the police carriages turned the corner. Marius thought of asking if they should wait to talk to the police, but he was too weak and tired. Patron Minette would go to jail; they were wanted for so many other crimes.

They did not make it more than a block before Marius leaned back onto the seat and let himself drift away.

* * *

><p>He had just begun drying off from his bath when there was a knock on the door of the room he was in. He pulled his trousers on- painfully, for his arms still hurt terribly, despite the fact that Basque had cleaned and bandaged his cuts earlier.<p>

"Enter," he said.

A doctor came in.

"Have you been to see my wife yet?" Marius said first.

"Yes," he said. "Monsieur Gillenormond told me you wanted me to go there first."

"Yes- is she alright?"

"She will be fine. She won't have any permanent injuries."

"And the baby?"

"We'll see in the next few days, but she did not sustain any blows to her abdomen, so the baby should be alright. They are surprisingly protected in the womb, you know. But let's take a look at these cuts you have," the doctor said, and began to examine Marius.

A half an hour later, Marius let himself into the bedroom he shared with Cosette. He was bandaged and told not to move too suddenly for several weeks. The doctor suspected he had a fractured rib, which explained the pain when breathing, and internal bleeding. But with rest, gentle treatment, and a lack of excitement, he would be fine. Cosette was awake, waiting up for him, sitting in a ball with her chin on her knees in front of the fire.

"Come," Marius said, absolutely exhausted. "Let's go to sleep."

They crawled into their large bed, and lay down in the clean white linen sheets. Every part of their bodies hurt. Marius was just as bruised as he suspected he would be, and so was Cosette. She had gauze wrapped all around her hands, and her face had a black shadow on the side where she had taken Montparnasse's hit. But their bruises would heal in a matter of weeks, and the same with their cuts. It would be longer before their minds would recover from their time in that room, and even longer before they would feel normal again.


	12. Epilogue

**One Year Later**

Jean Valjean was let into the parlor in the Marais, where he saw Cosette and Marius sitting a few paces apart from each other on the floor with the baby between them. Jean-Georges, had just began crawling a few days before, and it was endlessly entrancing.

They looked up when he entered the room.

"Hello, father!" Cosette said, springing up and kissing him on the cheek. "Watch, he's even faster now!"

The baby, who had just been near Marius, crawled over to Cosette. She bent down and picked him up.

"Say hello to your grandfather," she said. Jean-Georges giggled, his chubby baby face delightfully happy.

Cosette turned to Marius, who was just getting up now. Valjean was actually pleased that neither of them felt that they needed to greet him at the door, or interrupt their activities when he arrived- he was welcome as family.

"We're going for a walk," she informed her husband. "What were your plans for the day?"

"Courfeyrac is stopping by," he said, and reached his hands out. Cosette passed over the baby. "He is going to, once again, demand to know why he was not named godfather of Jean-Georges... I have told him about a hundred times that, in order to be Godfather, you must be trusted to be a good role model for the child. Also, something of an _affiliation_ towards religion would help-"

"Excuse me," came Courfeyrac's voice as Basque let him in. "I don't appreciate being talked about when I am not here to defend myself! And I have an affiliation! I was baptized!"

"Oh, well then..." Marius said sarcastically.

"Please, let me see me nephew," he pleaded, ignoring Marius', Cosette's, and Valjean's visable flinches. "Come see Uncle Courfeyrac!"

"Don't listen to a thing he says," Marius whispered to his son, keeping him away from his 'uncle.' "He's a bad, bad man and you are not to take after him!"

Courfeyrac laughed. "Now you are just setting me up to failure!"

"Alright, enough of this," Cosette said. Marius handed her the baby again. "We're going for a walk. I'll see you in an hour or so." She kissed Marius on the cheek, and then made to leave with her father.

"No kiss for me?" Courfeyrac said, in mock indignation. Cosette flashed him a smile, and left. Courfeyrac turned and saw Marius glaring at him. "What?"

"Will you _ever_ stop doing that?" Marius asked his friend.

"Mary," Courfeyrac said. "You know I am your truest friend."

"The best," Marius said sarcastically.

"I am," Courfeyrac said, missing this. "If I thought I ever had a chance, I would stop. Unfortunately there is something wrong with your wife- she's immune to me. So I have to keep trying."

"Ah, well," Marius said. "I suppose you aren't the very worst... I can forgive you."

"That's it," Courfeyrac said, slapping his friend on the back.

Courfeyrac had no idea how true the words were. Patron Minette was in jail, and at the time, all was well.

They both still had nightmares, Cosette especially. The day the verdict had come out was the worst; Cosette was white and pale all day, and would not speak. But as of now, they had each other, a child they loved and were safe in their home.

What else could anyone ask for?


End file.
